


Unconditional

by JoliePrudence



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Occult, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements, drug references, some agnst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:42:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 62,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoliePrudence/pseuds/JoliePrudence
Summary: “To love a person is to see all of their magic, and to remind them of it when they have forgotten.” - unknownWhen Armie drops a practically dead Timmy at Fraya's feet claiming he has finally found the one they have been looking for, she is skeptical, to say the least.  Saved by Armie from a potentially deadly situation at June's -  a brothel reputed as being an all you can eat buffet for the illicit, deprived and immoral - Timmy looks nothing like The One.  In bad shape both physically and mentally,  Fraya sees Timmy as nothing more than another dead end.  But she has never been able to refuse Armie.  In a world where the occult, the supernatural and reality of being special in this society collide, Fraya finds herself torn between saving her life and saving that of the ones she loves.
Relationships: Armie Hammer/Original Female Character(s), Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Original Character(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a writing exercise to empty my head of the random thoughts and fantasies my brain tends to conjure up when I allow it to go idle. Timmy and Armie live in my head lately and if unchecked, things get out of hand. This story began as a one-shot that was never meant to be shared and morphed into this bigger project that now consumes me. I find myself thinking about these boys and their lives in this universe entirely too much and writing this out is now a form of therapy. Although I have a final destination in mind, the road to get there is as unknown to me as it is to anyone else and I am a little scared to be taking this trip alone frankly. Any ideas or feedback you have is more than welcome. I hope you enjoy what I have so far.

“FRAYA!” the familiar voice bellowed from the other end of the converted industrial building, the vibrations echoing off the high ceilings and reverberating around the open space. 

Fraya was draped lazily over an oversized leather recliner, reading. The disruption annoyed her. 

‘Fuck!’ she thought to herself, dropping her head back, irritation distinct within a forceful exhale.

“AYA!” she heard again; another thundering bellow.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she mumbled as she extracted herself from the chair. Bare feet, padding across the large rug that delimited the living room within the open space, before raising onto tiptoes to avoid contact with the cold concrete floor of the empty spaces between each area.

She was heading toward what was once the reception area of the warehouse building they had converted into their home but was met halfway by a large figure rushing at her.

“AY…” he began screaming again but stopped when he realized she was there.

“What?” she questioned, eyebrows raised with expectant vexation.

Armie was out of breath and he took a moment to inhale deeply before answering her.

“I found him, Aya,” he declared, elated.

“What do you mean you found him?” Fraya asked, dismissiveness prevalent in her expression.

“Him, Aya! Him!” Armie announced dramatically, eyes wide as though what he was saying was obvious and needed no clarification. “I found HIM!”

Fraya looked up at him skeptically but wasn’t given a chance to debate the issue since Armie grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward the front door and almost out of the building. 

“Hey! I’m barefoot.” she protested. It had snowed the night before and the huge parking lot, that had once been filled with the vehicles of a hundred employees, was now empty and covered with an almost undisturbed white blanket.

“I need you to help me get him inside.” Armie insisted, pointing to what looked like a sleeping male figure in the passenger seat of his car.

“Can’t he walk?” she asked flippantly; which irked Armie. 

“No, he can’t… Just hold the door open for me, then,” Armie ordered before stepping outside, shoulders curled inward, neck pulled into the collar of his wool coat, to protect himself from the cold.

Fraya watched as Armie walked to the passenger side, pulled the door open and disappeared momentarily inside the chassis before emerging with what looked like a dead body over his shoulder. 

“Is the baby around?” he asked, walking past Fraya, struggling slightly under the weight of the lifeless heap on his back.

“No. Maika wanted to go to school this morning.” Fraya answered of their 6-year-old ward, whom Armie had never been able to stop calling ‘the baby’; as she closed the door and followed behind at a trot to keep up with his long paces. 

“Good,” he replied and unceremoniously dropped the body on the large leather couch that matched the recliner Fraya had previously been sitting on; it had landed on it’s back with a thud.

“Is he dead?” There was disdain in Fraya’s inflection followed by disgust, both audible and visible, when the young man began to convulse and vomit, gurgling and choking as he did so.

“Help me lift him up before he drowns in his own puke,” Armie ordered, pulling the limp form abruptly by the arm to roll him onto his side. 

Another heave propelled bile and a white foamy substance out of his stomach, which landed directly on the top of Fraya’s bare feet. 

‘’FUCK!’’ she hollered, jumping back to avoid a final surge, her nostrils now flared in anger on top of revulsion. ‘’Seriously?’’ she demanded, addressing Armie with furrowed angry brows and what felt like a dagger for a tongue. ‘’THIS is Him? This mess of a… boy. This is the guy who’s gonna save my life?’’ Disbelief and mockery were now also distinct in the sound of her voice.

Boy wasn’t quite the right word to describe the creature that appeared to be dying on her couch. Carried by Armie, who was 6 foot 5 had the build of a toned boxer, he had looked small; but now that he was stretched out on her couch, she realized he had to be close to six feet himself and had a little stubble on his upper lip and chin. When he moaned, the sound had been deeper than that of a teenager. Armie had pulled on his arm to roll him on his side and Fraya noticed all the track marks. A few of them looked infected.

‘’I don’t know why you’re saying it like that but yes, he is.’’ Armie countered, his eyebrows raised, defying her to continue doubting him. ‘’Look!’’ he insisted, pulling the boy’s filthy t-shirt up at the waist, exposing visible ribs and a concave belly in the process. The boy moaned again and started to shiver violently.

‘’Ugh! He smells.’’ Fraya said, getting closer; nose wrinkling and arm raised to her mouth to avoid the odour. 

The boy had a faint birthmark on the left side of his abdomen, that didn’t really look like much but she knew Armie would insist it was a conjuring mark. Fraya looked over at him skeptically, lips pressed together in an attempt to hold her tongue.

“He has powers Aya, I swear to you. I saw it.” Armie was almost pleading with her to believe him. Despite his size, he reminded her of the little boy he once was; when they were children and unaware of the world and what creatures hid the recesses of the dark. “I swear!” he repeated in supplication.

Softened into conceding temporarily, Fraya exhaled deeply and relaxed her shoulders and her jaw. On the couch, the boy had begun to shiver again.

“We need to warm him up… and clean him up.” She said, crinkling her nose again.

“Start the bath. I’ll get him a dose.” Armie commanded, the alpha in him returning in force now that Fraya was somewhat humouring him. 

“Oh, that’s a great idea.” Fraya chastised, sarcastically. Let’s give the junky more drugs.” 

“It’ll level him out. And stop the puking. Unless you like getting sprayed?” Armie eyed her soiled feet knowingly.

“Fine!” she conceded. “Get the scissors while you’re at it. You’re cutting him out of those clothes and burning them.” 

Fraya has just turned off the water in the large clawfoot tub when Armie walked up to her, cradling the limp naked skeletal frame to his chest as though carrying a sleeping child to bed. 

“Here,” he said, extending a hand from under the boy’s knees to give Fraya the familiar potion bottle, a trinket they had found in an antique shop and bought because it impressed customers; it made the dosing seem more illicit and romantic. 

Fraya watched as Armie gently lowered the listless figure into the warm bath water, being careful to support his upper body so he didn’t slip under the surface. Fraya came to lean next to Armie, close to the boy’s head and placed the vial close to his lips. She made sure Armie was holding him tightly and she pulled out the stopper.

She watched as a slow-moving blue gas swirled up from the small bottle and slithered toward the boy’s pale mouth. Delicately she parted his dry chapped lips so that on his next intake of air the vapour would be inhaled.

As soon as he did so, it was as though a lightning bolt had shot through his body and revived him. His body arched, every muscle clenching; his eyes shot open, pupils dilating; and he gasped and moaned almost simultaneously. Gold flecked green eyes trained on Fraya, he was panting heavily. Fingers still stretched out in his direction, she stroked his gaunt cheek softly and smiled reassuringly while he caught his breath. His skin had lost its deathly blue tint.

“What was that?” he panted, hoarsely.

“Just something to make you feel better,” she answered evasively, guiding him gently to rest against the back of the tub, where he lolled peacefully. “We’re going to get you cleaned up now.”

The gas-like drug they had given the boy was a substance they called Spasm, which they produced and distributed. The substance mimicked the effects of an intense orgasm, forcing your body to produce extreme amounts of dopamine, oxytocin and serotonin. The effects of this being a heightened sense of happiness, well being and relaxation. Pain, if any, disappeared. The sense of touch was heightened making the user feel connected physically and emotionally to those around them. The high was comparable to that of heroin and ecstasy combined, without the confusion and lethargy of the comedown. Its addictiveness was emotional more so than physical. Because the oxytocin surge was so strong, users felt a deep emotional attachment to those they were with and withdrawal caused feelings of abandonment and rejection. Which made them want to do it again to stop the depression.

The fact that the body’s initial reaction was to experience a violent climax only made it’s street value higher. They weren’t selling to just anybody, however. Because the drug could only be produced in very specific conditions and in small quantities, they were careful how they used it and who was allowed to take it. 

“There we go,” Fraya said softly, towel drying his chestnut brown hair after his bath, as she would a child’s, trying not to frizz his jaw-length loose curls as she did so.

Armie had gotten him dressed in a pair of his boxers and an old sweatshirt, both of which were huge on him and hung off his bony hips and shoulders precariously. But he was sitting up at the dining room table, warm, clean and already looking much better than he had an hour ago. He sighed contentedly when Fraya abandoned the towel and finger-combed through the curls to give them a little shape, stopping only when Armie brought him a bowl of chicken soup and ordered that he eat. 

Once convinced he could handle taking small sips of the liquid, Armie beckoned Fraya over to the kitchen island with a discreet motion of the head.

“I found this in his pants,” he informed her, pointing toward a tattered leather wallet he had left on the granite countertop. It sat next to a broken screen smartphone and a leather cuff the boy had been wearing when Armie had brought him in.

The wallet contained little other than a driver’s license and a few dollars. Fraya examined the laminated identification card. 

“Timothée Chalamet,” she whispered, pronouncing it in her native french. She paused for a moment as she calculated the boy’s age in her head. 

“Yemu dvadtsat’tri goda.” Armie countered in Russian, translating immediately. “He’s 23.”

Fraya gently grazed her thumb over the picture on the card, feeling immediate empathy and loss for whoever’s son this was. Clearly he hadn’t been home in a while. The young man sitting at her table was gaunt, limbs rail-thin and marked up and down with needle tracks, bruises and what looked like a few bites. He was almost grey in colour again regardless of the dose he’d just been administered. 

Taken just a few years ago, the boy in the picture was vibrant, healthy and clearly mischievous given the corner grin he couldn’t hide despite the no-smiling rule that was standard for these photographs. 

“Where’d you find him?” Fraya asked, still looking at Timothée’s picture, not sure why she suddenly felt so sorry for him.

“At June’s” Armie answered, nonchalantly, taking a bite from one of the apples he’d grabbed from the bowl of fruit Fraya always left out on the counter.

“June’s?” it was more an accusation than a question. “Was he buying or selling?”

‘June’s’ referred to an underground brothel where people from all walks of life gathered to partake in everything from prostitution to collective drug dens and everything in between. June ran the place. Once a high-end escort, now in her late fifties, June had opened the brothel as a way of providing a safer environment for girls to work; but the money had quickly become more important. June’s was now an all you can eat buffet for the illicit, deprived and immoral. Which is why Armie and Fraya were regulars. 

“I’m pretty sure he was selling so he could buy,” Armie replied, with a shrug of his shoulder after another bite from his apple. 

Fraya understood this to mean that he was prostituting himself to buy drugs. A pang of sorrow tightened her throat for a moment and she swallowed hard to dissipate it. This information didn’t surprise her. He must have been beautiful once. Long and lean, brown curls falling into what she thought were probably impish green eyes. She looked at the boy at the table and then back at the picture in her hand, imagining him then, cheeks fuller and complexion bright. With that jawline, those lips and that nose he must have looked like a Grecian statue come to life or like the inspiration for a renaissance painting. Remembering the bite marks, her nostrils flared in a flash of anger. She knew exactly the type who was buying what he was offering. Men who got off on desecrating something beautiful. Men who got aroused only by seeing their acts of violence defile and mare something unsullied and innocent.

“And what is it you think you saw him do?” she asked to change her train of thought, already feeling a protectiveness for this Timothée chalamet that she didn’t want to develop further.

“I don’t think, Aya. I know. I was there.” Armie was emphatic now. 

“You were THERE?” she hissed, the surge of anger coming from Aya taking him by surprise.

“Not like that. I wasn’t the one buying,” he said, hands raised in immediate surrender. Adding playfully “although... Give him a few weeks to get better and then I’d definitely buy that.” which merited him a distasteful glare that made him chuckle. 

“Then how?”

“He was in the main room, looking for a trick while I was… well you know.” He grinned sheepishly and she rolled her eyes. “He was having a hard time. I mean you see him, he looks rough. Eventually, this group of guys agreed to go up with him. Three of them; and none of them looked like they had anything fun planned I can tell you that. As they were going up the stairs, one of them whispered something in the kid’s ear and it’s like the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. He stopped, turned around and the three guys went flying across the room. They weren’t pushed. He didn’t even touch them. One of them flew right into the chandelier and got cut up pretty badly. The other two hit the walls and came crashing down with blood coming out of their eyes and their ears. It looked like their brain had melted” 

“What the fuck?” was all Fraya could say.

“I know right!” he was beaming now, pleased with himself. “It was pretty chaotic for a second. Nobody understood what was happening. Then the kid collapsed. So I grabbed him and got the fuck out of there before anyone realized it was him who had caused it.”

“And you’re sure it was him?” Fraya pressed, torn between wanting it to be true and not.

“Am I sure?’ he sounded annoyed at her continued doubt. ‘’His eyes turned black. And I don’t mean that metaphorically Aya. The entire thing. Pupil, iris, sclera… black.”

Fraya took a moment to absorb this information and decide what to do with it. Finally, resigning herself to what she knew was inevitable, she put the driver’s licence back into the weathered wallet and walked back toward the boy.

“Come on Timothée.” she prompted. “Let’s get you to bed.”

‘’Timmy.’’ he corrected softly, not meeting her eyes.

‘’What?’’ she questioned, not having heard him properly, his voice was so quiet.

‘’My name. It’s Timmy. Timothée doesn’t exist anymore.’’

Fraya looked at him for a moment and eventually smiled. Even if she had wanted to remain neutral in the face of this boy that Armie was imposing on her, she already knew she would never be. She didn’t know if in fact he was the one they’d been looking for but there was definitely something special about him. He was already theirs and she knew it.

‘’Nice to meet you Timmy. My name is Aya and this is Armie.’’


	2. Chapter 2

It had been almost four days since Armie had carried a practically dead Timmy into their home and already he was looking much better. The first few days had bled into one another as he was administered dose after dose of Spasm which allowed his body to rid itself of the toxic synthetic shit he had been injecting into his veins without succumbing to the physical withdrawal symptoms. He spent most of his time in the large bed that Armie and Fraya shared, the bed he now shared as well, sleeping and cuddling with either of his hosts, reading and watching movies as his body healed. He seemed to have no recollection of what had happened at June’s and Fraya warned Armie to not try and jog his memory.

Twice a day, usually Armie in the mornings and Fraya in the evenings, they would help him wash and apply a sweet-smelling salve to all his wounds and blisters, the composition of which Fraya had insisted would frighten even the most open-minded holistic believer but quickly healed his injuries with barely any scares.

By the third day, Timmy was strong enough to stay out of bed a few hours at a time. Although he was never alone in the warehouse, his keepers had now allowed him to roam the large open space freely, without needing to be by his side. On an afternoon that Armie had gone out, Timmy was left to his own devices as Fraya occupied herself with domestic duties. He had gone to the entrance hall, where the walls behind the defunct reception desk had been lined with floor to ceiling shelves filled with hundreds, if not thousands of books, looking for something new to read. He trailed long thin fingers over the spines of leather-bound antiquities and tattered paperbacks alike, reading the titles to himself, hoping one would grab his attention. He perused the stacks, pulling out a novel here and there, reading the description on the book jacket and putting it back in its place.

He didn’t know what he was looking for. He had always picked intuitively. Sometimes not even needing to read the description or look at the cover image. Just the feel of it in his hands made him choose one book over another. He blindly pulled a frayed black and white paperback from one of the shelves and rubbed his thumb over the lettering. Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman. Immediately he knew the book was Fraya’s and he felt a sudden yearning for her. He opened the cover and saw that she had written her name in cursive on its title page. Grazing his thumb over her writing this time, the pang got stronger and he wanted - no, needed - to be close to her.

It had been a long time since this had happened and he tried to ignore it at first. He hated these feelings. Young, he had thought they were normal. That everyone felt things so vividly, so deeply. But as he got older and had conversations with his friends, he realized it wasn’t. He also realized that not everyone saw things the way he did. Visions, premonitions and empathic connections his grandmother had called it. She was the only one he had told and she had warned him to be careful who he shared this with. That wasn’t a problem. He didn’t want to share it with anybody. These… feelings… they made him feel like an alien. 

When he had turned 18, he had started to hear voices as well. He was convinced he could hear people’s thoughts and his parents had taken him to see a psychiatrist who immediately diagnosed him with schizophrenia and prescribed lithium. When the lithium stopped working he began to self medicate. Anything to stop the voices.

Within six months of his diagnosis, he had failed out of college, lost his job at the grocery store stocking shelves at night because he either slept on the job or simply didn’t show up, too high to function. Eventually, he had left home to escape his parents who wanted to help but that meant letting the voices in; so… no. 

He had lived on couches and in hostels and eventually a few park benches. Once his savings had dried up, he found out quickly people would pay good money to have sex with him. Men mostly. Older and rarely very nice. But he was so numb to the world he didn’t even care. Now that he could feel again, he worried the mind-reading or voices or whatever ‘gift’ his grandmother said he had been bestowed with would flare-up. 

Faint awareness of slow-moving anxiety caused him to tighten his grasp on the thin novel. He felt Fraya’s essence in it’s binding and a swift rush of need to touch her replaced the angst and released the tightening in his throat.

With the book in hand, he ambled back into the open warehouse, eyes scanning around each living space, not finding her. Other than the entrance hall, the only other two areas that were closed off were the toilet stall and what he assumed had been a supervisor’s office back when the warehouse was still a functioning business. Since he’d been a guest here, he had never ventured up the gray metal staircase that led to the second-story room. As he climbed the steps, cold iron chilling his bare feet, he could feel his need for her grow, almost beyond the capacity of his frail chest. He fought the feeling, it was almost painful. His hands were almost shaking by the time he reached the landing and knocked on the closed door. He waited for Fraya to grant him entrance and walked in, not prepared for what he found.

Fraya was sitting in the lotus position on a pink frilly bed, folding little clothes from a wicker laundry basket she had placed next to her. Everything around here was pink. The walls, the furniture, the rug. There were dolls and teddy bears in toy baskets at the foot of the bed and colourful pictures decorated the walls. There was even a pink rocking horse in a corner.

She smiled when she saw him, a genuine smile, happy to see him. He walked into the room fingers trailing the door frame, the wall and then the bed before he came to sit next to her and without asking came to rest his head on her bare lap, arms around her waist. He nuzzled her stomach, the cotton of her T-shirt, felt soft against his nose. She smelled like clean linen and coconut. He nipped intimately at the soft and plump round of her belly and she giggled, ruffling his hair.

“Everything ok?” she asked him and he turned to lay on his back, head still in her lap, so he could look at her.

She had pulled her long brown hair into a messy top knot and loose strands had fallen out and around her face, the frame of her dark-rimmed glasses perched mid nose. There were bright red nail marks on her collarbone where she had scratched earlier and he wanted to touch them, to see if they felt hot the way he imagined they did.

“Yes. I… I just wanted to be with you.” he answered, hands fidgeting with the bedspread to avoid reaching his fingers to her throat, his voice breathier than he wanted it to be.

She smiled again, fingers gliding unconsciously through his soft curls.

“That’s the Spasm talking,” she informed him sweetly. “I’ll get you a dose in a little while. We should start spacing them out more now that the worst is over.”

Timmy sighed and rolled his head back toward her belly, eyes closed. He wondered why he’d never tried Spasm before or even heard of it for that matter. And beyond that, why he had never seen Fraya at June’s. He’d seen Armie around a few times, he was hard to miss being so tall and so handsome, his perfect hair and perfect smile always on display, but never Fraya. He was sure he would have remembered if he had, despite the perpetual haze. His nose was dangerously close to her inner thigh and she smelled even better down there. To keep his mind off of things he knew she wouldn’t allow he asked whose room they were in. Although he had been in and out of consciousness for part of his time with them, he was certain he hadn’t seen a little girl around.

That was the day he learned of Maika’s existence, the 6-year-old Armie and Fraya had taken in when she was just a baby. When Armie had brought Timmy home, Fraya had sent her to spend some time with a friend of the family so she wouldn’t have to see him in that state.

“Armie is bringing her home tonight. I’m just getting her things ready.”

Fraya hadn’t said much about Maika other than that but Timmy could feel the love she felt for this little girl almost as though he felt this love himself and he had to fight back a wave of tears that he didn’t fully understand. It made him miss his own mother though and he had to fight that too. His parents were better off without him, he reminded himself.

To smother the conflicting emotions swirling inside him, he buried his face deeper, arms encircling her again. Now that his face was right up against the thin fabric of her underwear he was feeling something entirely different and it was pulsing all the way down to his engorging crotch. 

The heat emanating from her was intoxicating and he licked his lips hungrily, the tip of his tongue accidentally touching the fabric and her breath caught. She had felt it and he sensed that she had liked it. This pleased him more than he had a right for it too. Her smell was even stronger now and he couldn’t control himself. He kissed her where his tongue had been and she tensed again, her hand fisting in his hair.

Gently, she pulled his head away and looked down at him with a corner smile. It took a moment before she spoke, her chest rising and falling a little quicker than it had just moments ago.

“Maybe we should get you that dose now after all.” she said softly, patting his cheek with her free hand.

After readjusting the situation in the boxers Armie had given him, he followed her down the stairs and went to lie on the couch where he waited for her to retrieve the familiar vial from a high cupboard in the kitchen. He watched her stretch high to reach the bottle, Armie’s shirt no longer covering the rounds of her ass and he had to stop himself from reaching into his underwear.

Once he had breathed in the fluid gas and collapsed back onto the armrest, forehead and temples damp with sweat after a particularly intense physical reaction which had done nothing for his erection, Fraya smoothed back his curls to kiss his forehead and told him to sleep.

He woke up the sound of two people speaking french and it took him a moment to identify Fraya’s voice as one of them. He recognized the language because he had grown up hearing it. His father was French and spoke French to him at home. He could speak it a little bit as well though lack of practice had rendered him less than fluent. 

A little voice, probably Maika’s, was excitedly telling Fraya everything she had done at Tante Lucie’s house which must have been in the country based on the description of farm animals and horseback riding. 

She was shy at first once they were introduced but despite this Timmy was immediately awed by her beauty. She was by far the most beautiful child he had ever seen. Her hair, red like fire, flowed over her shoulders in perfect ringlets and her eyes were blue like water. She had cherubic features highlighted by dimples on both cheeks and a pink heart-shaped mouth that she pursed in his direction. She hid behind Fraya when he smiled to say hi and refused to sit next to him at the dining room table.

She eyed him suspiciously throughout dinner. She clearly wasn’t used to having someone in the warehouse with them and she was treading carefully around him. 

“I don’t think she likes me very much.” Timmy said to Armie as they were clearing the table, later in the evening.

“It takes her a while to warm up to new people. Just give her a minute. We like you. She will too.” Armie had reassured him with a warm smile that curled his upper lip and exposed perfectly white teeth and pointed incisors. His smile could make anyone weak in the knees. 

Timmy blossomed under the compliment, cheeks turning a pretty pink. It had been a long time since someone had said anything like that to him and meant it. 

Later, once Maika was bathed and ready for bed, Fraya brought her to the living room to say good night to Armie and Timmy who were watching TV. Armie picked her up and nozzled his large face inside her tiny neck and she squealed, giggling as she tried to push herself out of his arms.

“Spokoynoy nochi, Detka.” Armie said, in a language Timmy didn’t understand but knew was Russian because he’d heard Armie speak it before and had asked what it was. _‘Good night, Baby.’_

When Fraya directed Maika toward Timmy she was hesitant. Timmy scooched to the edge of the recliner where he sat and bending forward to be at her eye level, he stuck out a hand in her direction.

“Bonne nuit Maika. Je suis vraiment enchanté d’avoir fait ta connaissance.’’ he said, smiling softly at her. _‘Good night, I’m very happy to have met you.’_

Armie and Fraya both looked at him with mouths gaping, a look he returned sheepishly through thick black lashes with a coy closed mouth smile and shrugged. But this little bit of effort to reach Maika had worked and she stuck out her little hand to shake his.

‘’A demain.’’ he added and she nodded. _‘See you tomorrow.’_

By the next morning, Maika’s attitude toward Timmy had changed. While tucking her in the night before, Fraya had explained that Timmy hadn’t been feeling well and they had to take care of him, just like she and Armie had taken care of her when she was a baby. This seemed to have done the trick as she had begun acting as though he had always been a part of their lives. As expected, Timmy was smitten immediately. She had that effect on people.

By that afternoon they were playing hide and seek around the warehouse and driving Fraya crazy. Eventually, she put a stop to it, reminding them that Timmy still had to rest and Maika had some homework to do if she was going to go to school the next day.

Armie and Fraya seemed to have a rather lax routine when it came to Maika’s schooling. She had been asked that morning if she had wanted to go to school and when she had said no, neither of them seemed to take issue with it. She had said she would go the next day and they had agreed. His own parents would have never accepted this type of arrangement, education being of the highest priority for them.

Fraya had later explained that Maika went to an alternative school that proned learning on the child’s time and through various outlets. She had spent an hour with Armie on the computer in the reception area that morning learning about apiculture and that was the extent of her learning for the day. And who could argue with the results when at barely six years old she was fluent in 3 languages and incredibly volubile in all of them once she stopped being shy. 

  
  


One morning, after another week or so had passed, Fraya woke up to the feeling of Timmy’s boney - although now less so - rear-end pressing against her own, as he pulled on the blanket she had stolen sometime in the night. She could tell Armie was already up because she couldn’t feel his weight on the mattress and she wished he had stayed there a little longer. He was spending a lot of time away lately and she missed him. As she was fighting to go back to sleep, she felt tiny arms wrap around her neck and a cold little nose pressed against her cheek.

“Bon matin mon ange.” she said with a smile and pulled the little body into the bed, covering her with the blanket that she had pulled off of Timmy again. _‘Good morning my angel.’_

“Hey!” Timmy groaned and he rolled over to spoon Fraya in an attempt to stay warm. He stretched an arm across her waist to reach the little redhead so he could pull both of them into him. This made the little girl giggle.

“Timmy, tu peux venir me porter à l'école ce matin?’’ she asked, peeking over Fraya’s shoulder at the young man. ‘Can you take me to school this morning?’

‘’Si Armie est d’accord.’’ _‘If Armie says yes’._ he answered, his accent less pronounced now that he was speaking french more often. 

‘’Vy znayete, on skazhet net?’’ Maika answered, this time in perfect Russian. _‘You know he will say no.’_

‘’Po angliyski pozhaluysta.’’ Timmy’s Russian accent was terrible as he asked her to repeat her statement in English, Armie having taught him that phrase because she often forgot that he didn’t also speak Russian. This sent Maika into a fit of giggles and he retaliated by tickling her belly which made her trash against Fraya as she laughed; the sound of which echoed pleasantly throughout the warehouse.

‘’Where’s Armie?’’ Fraya asked when the little girl had calmed down.

‘’I’m here,’’ he answered for her. His presence immediately felt as much as it was heard, all 6 foot 5 of him taking up a lot of space. ‘’Come on Baby,” he said, moving the blanket off of them. “your breakfast is ready.’’ 

Fraya pouted in a show of solidarity as the little body was pulled out of her arms and hoisted up onto Armie’s wide shoulder like a potato sack, protesting loudly.

‘’No ya Khochu, chtoby Timmy otvel menya v shkolu.’’ Maika argued. _‘But I want Timmy to take me to school.’_

‘’Ne segodnya.’’ was all he answered. _‘Not today.’_

“Go brush your teeth,” Fraya commanded later, sending her off with a tender tap on the rear after she had helped Maika jump off the stool where she had sat to eat her oatmeal. 

Holding closed the flannel shirt she had stolen from Armie years ago, she walked around the island to put the child’s empty bowl in the dishwasher, not the least bit surprised when Armie’s large warm hand came to rub her back.

Without bothering to close the dishwasher she turned and wrapped her arms around Armie’s muscular body and pressed her face into his sternum. Armie wrapped his arms around her shoulders tightly and curved his spine so he could rest his chin on the top of her head.

“Good morning.” he greeted her, breath hot in her hair.

“Good morning,” she mumbled, cheek still pressed to his chest, luxuriating in the feel of his cream-coloured cable knit sweater against her skin. 

“You look nice, where are you heading today.” Timmy asked, having gotten up as well to get a glass of water.

To be fair, Armie always looked good. It wasn’t only that he was tall and fit. There was something about the way he carried himself and how his clothes fit him that gave the impression he had just walked off a magazine cover. It didn’t hurt that even his t-shirts were by high-end designers. He kept his dirty blond hair cut short and usually sported a few days growth of well-groomed bread. Fraya often teased that he dressed as though he was coming from a weekend in the Hamptons or Cape Cod. She and Timmy looked like street rats next to him at the moment, both dressed in one of his oversized shirts and barely anything else, hair a mess and pillows still imprinted on their cheeks.

“I have meetings in the city with our lawyers and then I have a client at June’s.”

Timmy flinched at the mention of June’s but he quickly recovered. Regardless, Armie opened a protective arm and pulled the boy against him as well, kissing his temple casually. Feeling her claim to the spot against Armie’s chest being threatened, Fraya bumped Timmy with her hip and he stumbled as he was forced to move to the side. She bit the inside of her cheek not to laugh. She hadn’t meant to push him so hard, but the boy needed to learn his place.

“What are you guys gonna do?” Armie asked before Timmy could protest his expulsion.

“I’m going to take Timmy to Maggie’s and get him some clothes. She called for an appointment so I figured we should take the opportunity to get him out of that hoodie.”

This was the first Timmy was hearing of this plan and the idea of leaving the safety of the warehouse both excited and scared him. He also happened to like wearing Armie’s oversized sweater. That being said, pants would be nice.

Once Maika had finished with her hair and teeth, Timmy escorted her to the entrance hall where he helped her zip her winter coat and adjusted her hat and scarf as she put on her mittens. Before joining them, Armie held Fraya back on the other side of the partition for a moment, a look of concern marring his handsomeness as he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. 

“Are you ok? You’re really pale this morning.”

“It’s been a while.” Was all she had to say for him to understand..

“I’ll find someone soon? Can you hold on a few days?” He asked with concern. When she nodded he added: “I know you’ve been taking the bulk of the responsibility with Timmy and haven’t been able to go out much. I’ll take care of it.”

Fraya kissed his knuckles in thanks.

“Are you sure that’s it. You’re not getting sicker?” Armie probed further. Fraya could feel his anguish and she shook her head, reassuringly.

“No. I’m ok. The meds are still working.” this wasn't exactly true but they were doing their job of keeping her healthy well enough for now.

“Good.” he breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped an arm around her shoulders so he could pull her close to kiss her, lips trailing against hers, not wanting to go but knowing he had too.

Moments later Timmy and Fraya watched as Armie headed out with Maika propped up on his forearm, little arms wrapped around his neck, her face turned away from the wind and blowing snow.

“What should we do now?” Timmy asked, once the car had disappeared in the distance and all was quiet around them.

“Let’s go back to bed. We still have a few hours.”


	3. Chaptre 3

“Fuck me.” Timmy whispered, eyes wide and mouth agape. It was an expletive of surprise and admiration more so than a request. Although there was a fair amount of lust thrown in for good measure. This made Fraya laugh.

“Thank you.” she replied, twirling to show off her outfit. “So I look ok?’ The question was rhetorical. She knew she looked good. 

It had taken her a few hours to get ready between taking a bath and everything else that women did to get ready. Timmy had done his best to keep out of her way and give her some privacy, which was quite a feat in a huge open warehouse that barely had any separating walls. He’d stayed in bed and read, taken a shower, gotten dressed and made lunch which he ate at the reception desk after bringing her her plate. He was still there lost in an infinite YouTube loop when Fraya came to find him. He had looked up and suddenly forgotten how to breathe. She was always pretty, bare-faced and hair in a messy top-knot, wearing Armie’s oversized clothes and her black frame glasses always sliding down her cute nose. Now, she was drop-dead gorgeous.

Her long auburn hair hung in loose waves and curls down to her waist; her skin practically glowed in the sunlight and she’d adorned her dark green eyes with black winged eye-liner that reminded of Marilyn or Brigitte Bardot; she wore worn and ripped black jeans so tight you could bounce a quarter of her thigh, a thin black satin and lace camisole that strained under the weight of her curves and a pair of red-soled matte grey pumps that had to have cost more than the entirety of what he had owned in the past three years. Over that she’d thrown on a perfectly tailored pale pink wool coat that cinched at the waist. There was something almost intimidating in how impeccably put together she looked; how perfectly fit to her body her clothes were. It made her seem powerful and strong and yet she still looked feminine and soft in all the right ways and places. Timmy thought of Armie and Fraya stepping out on the town together, both looking like they belonged on magazine covers and he imagined people must stop in the street to stare.

He was suddenly embarrassed by his own appearance and felt awkward in the oversized tracksuit Fraya had laid out for him. Everything he had on belonged to a giant. Armie was a freaking GIANT! People would be staring at them, for an entirely different reason, wondering why a woman like her would be even seen with the likes of him.

“Are you ready to go?” she had asked, handing him a humongous ski jacket and his shoulders fell.

They sat quietly in the backseat of an Uber heading downtown which was roughly a thirty-minute drive from the warehouse depending on traffic. Timmy had scooted down the seat to be able to rest his neck on the lowered headrest, knees spread wide to accommodate the lack of legroom. He had been completely non-verbal since they’d gotten in the car, staring out his window at the speeding by landscapes, his tension palpable in the confined space.

“Everything ok?” Fraya had asked, placing a hand on his right thigh, thumb grazing over the loose fabric of the track pants. In lieu of an answer, he laced his fingers with hers and brought the back of her hand up to his lips so he could kiss it gently before bringing their entwined fingers back down to rest on his leg. He hadn’t bothered to look at her.

He was afraid that if he did, she would be able to tell how nervous he was to leave the security of his bubble at the warehouse. Other than how intensely he had been feeling everything since his body had been free of the drugs, he hadn’t experienced any of the symptoms that had caused him to self medicate. Going out into crowded streets for the first time since he was afraid that he would begin to. Part of him also worried that if he was able to manage this outing successfully, Armie and Fraya would decide he was ready and ask him to leave so they could resume their lives. This prospect flooded his brain with anxiety and his heart with indescribable sorrow from which it took him a moment to recover.

He was well versed in the emotional attachment side effects caused by regular Spasm intake. Armie had explained it to him on his fifth or sixth day at the warehouse. He had been particularly clingy that day and in the evening, once Maika had been put to bed, Timmy had wriggled his way between his keepers on the couch as they tried to get a few minutes alone. 

Fraya had kindly but forcefully asked him to give them some space and he had sulked back to the bed, swallowing back tears he didn’t understand. That night, Armie, who normally took the left side of the bed and Fraya who always slept in the middle, switched places so both she and Timmy could curl up to him on either side. 

Timmy had nuzzled into Armie’s large arm without needing to be asked and he wrapped his arm around his waist, his forearm draping over Fraya’s who had done the same. He couldn’t imagine ever feeling more content, safe and loved. Armie had then explained that what Timmy was feeling was nothing more than a chemical reaction in his brain caused by the ‘medicine’ they were giving him to feel better. The feelings weren’t real although they felt so. And that once he was better and they would start tapering him off of the Spasm, these feelings of love and longing and desire would wane. 

That was all well and good he had thought, his head rising and falling in rhythm with Armie’s chest, it didn’t do much to alleviate the overwhelming feelings of rejection he felt when his affections weren’t returned or the incapacitating feelings of abandonment he was currently fighting to quelch.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?” Fraya pressed, turning so she could look at him better.

Timmy shrugged and finally turned his head to the side so he could look at her, smiling mouth closed and eyes dull from the lack of playfulness that normally shone there.

“Just feeling a little melancholy.” he lied. It was much more than melancholy.

“Well snap out of it. This is going to be fun.”

“Ok.” he had answered with a level of ennui and gloom Fraya hadn’t seen from him before.

“Ok.” she mimicked, down to his baritone and the tedium of his facial expression.

This made him chuckle and she smiled, satisfied for the moment.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” He asked after another bout of silence. His voice was soft, laced with the youthful innocence he normally kept for Armie. 

Fraya acquiesced with a nod, eyes fixed on his bottom lip, swollen and slick from having just been sucked into his mouth and bitten before he had made up his mind to engage in conversation. A habit she found endearing and at times alluring depending on his mood.

“How old are you?” He thought the question might have surprised her a little as it did most women but she seemed unphased.

“Twenty-nine. Why?” 

“Just curious.” his entire being shrugged. Shoulders, neck, corners of the mouth. “And Armie?” 

“Thirty-three.” 

“How long have been… together… married? Are you married?” He continued to question after another brief silence.

“We’ve known each other since we were little kids. But no, we’re not married.” she snickered dismissively as though the notion of marriage was amusing and irrelevant.

Timmy pondered this information momentarily but still curious, he pushed further.

“I told you.” Fraya insisted. “We’ve been together since we were kids. I’ve never been with anyone else.” 

“But he has?” Timmy questioned, picking up on the distinction she’d made between both having been together since they had been children but staying that only she had never been with anyone else.

“You’re very curious all of a sudden.” she chided playfully but seeing that her rebuke was returning him to his silence she decided to placate him. “It’s not complicated. There’s just no need to define it. Call it fate or say we’re soulmates or twin flames, whatever definition makes sense to you. It’s not physical. It goes beyond that. So yeah there’ve been others. Momentary people in passing to change the scenery. Nothing more.”

Timmy went silent again, chewing on his lips and the inside of his cheeks, as he appeared to take in this information; Fraya trying to read the flitter of emotions going through his eyes as he did so. He had released her hand so he could fiddle with the strings of Armie’s hoody, a habit he had developed since childhood, unable to keep his hands still for long periods at a time. 

“You really like him huh.” Fraya stated, taking his hand in her again so he would stop fidgeting. She smiled softly to show this didn’t upset her.

“I… no.” his initial response was defensive. She had taken him off guard with this affirmation. She was smiling at him tenderly though and this confused him. “I mean yeah, I guess... he's great but i mean... Not like.. Well I mean the Spasm, you know, does things I guess. But…” his eyes were wide and his ivory cheeks were now a beautiful pale blush as he figuratively tried to tread water. His desperate attempt at finding the right words failing miserably.

“It’s ok!” she soothed, stopping him from having to continue further. Leaning her head on her headrest, she let it fall to the side, mirroring his own posture. “I don’t mind. There’s enough of him to go around. We can share.” There was another moment of silence as he assimilated this new data.

He knew that by ‘like’, Fraya has meant ‘attracted to’. And regardless of the Spasm side effects, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to Armie. He was beautiful, strong and kind. Tenderness and physical displays of appreciation came naturally to him. He was both commanding and understanding and he didn’t get upset easily. He was the strong quiet type.

Timmy had had the great privilege of growing up in a household where he was taught that gender roles and who you love had nothing to do with the type of body you were born in. Of course, society as a whole didn’t necessarily follow this idiom but he had never much cared for society. Throughout his high school years, he had found himself attracted to many different people and had been close with a few of them. His parents had always accepted whoever he had brought home. But the closer he got to people, the more his affliction became unbearable so these relationships rarely went beyond the occasional ‘Netflix and chill’ stage. 

Later, when he had turned to prostitution for matters of necessity, most of his experience has been with men though there had been a few women as well. The women had all been lovely and sweet. They were usually much older and mostly wanted to be made to feel desirable and beautiful. At first, the men had been ok as well. But the more desperate Timmy became, the more depraved and vicious they had become. He had no doubt that one day he would have accepted the wrong offer and ended up dead if an overdose didn’t kill him first. Armie and Fraya had saved him from that and the love he felt for them both was indescribable. It wasn’t only the Spasm making him feel this way, this he knew for a fact. He was convinced that neither was his physical attraction for either of them.

“I like you too.” he professed eventually, bottom lip tucked between white teeth again and a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was drawing circles on the inside of her wrist with his thumb and his touch burned her skin delectably.

“You’ll have to have that conversation with Armie.” Fraya warned playfully which made him laugh.

“If I were him,” he retorted, his mood lighter now, flirtatious. “I wouldn’t want to share you.” Though her makeup was hiding the pink creeping up on her cheeks, her ears having turned red were giving her away. “Are you blushing?” he asked and they both laughed.

“I guess I am.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit about Fraya and Armie's background is revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is HUGE!!!!!!

Maggie’s was a high-end boutique and beauty salon combination in the city’s posh upper-class fashion district. The space was stunning; high ceilings and white walls, hardwood floors, distressed wooden shelving and green plants decorated in offwhite intricate macramé everywhere. The clothes were displayed on golden racks and looked to be a mix of carefully curated vintage and designer brands. There were plush yellow settees and retro wooden armchairs strategically placed in the space and the counter served as both a register area and espresso bar. 

The salon section was equally glamorous and vintage in style with black and white tiled flooring, teal and yellow furniture and art-deco wooden commodes with golden framed wall mirrors at both stations.

Timmy felt awkward and out of place in such an expensive-looking environment. He came from a middle-class family wanting for little but had spent the last few years living in squalor and he had grown accustomed to it. His time at the warehouse had felt like a vacation in an expensive hotel: temporary and not something you should get accustomed to. His ill-fitting clothes and dishevelled appearance wasn’t helping his self-esteem. Neither were the judgemental looks from passers-by as they had gotten out of the Uber.

He trailed behind Fraya by a few steps, her five feet three inches offering him no cover or protection as they walked into the boutique. They were immediately greeted by a lovely woman who was leaning over the counter near the front of the store, while cradling a tiny ceramic teacup in her hands, smiling warmly in their direction.

“Hey gorgeous!” she said with an inviting smile, dark brown eyes crinkled at the sides. Her voice was deep but feminine.

“Hey yourself.” Fraya replied, obviously happy to see the woman.

“I was talking to the tall drink of water behind you.” she said with a twinkle in her eye and this made Timmy blush.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Fraya beamed, stopping long enough for him to fall into step with her, so she could entwine her arm with his, lacing their fingers together. There was pride in her voice which filled him with satisfaction as well as embarrassment. “This is Timmy.” she said, directing him toward the blond woman. “Timmy, this is Maggie.” 

Timmy smiled shyly and stepped forward to shake the blond woman’s perfectly manicured hand, though he made sure to not let go of Fraya’s arm in the process.

“Nice to meet you.” he said genuinely, making sure to look the woman in the eye as he did so. He could tell that Maggie was good-natured and he was slowly regaining a little assurance.

“I’m guessing that based on the call I received from your bank this morning to extend your line of credit, that Timmy isn’t here for our appointment.” she pouted, red lips pursed sexily.

“No,” Fraya replied. Shaking her head slowly, unable to hide a smile. “Timmy doesn’t do that anymore, right?” 

Timmy shook his head reflexively, knowing this was the answer she was expecting but it took him a moment to realize what she was insinuating. Once he did, it took him off guard. Both because Fraya was openly referencing prostitution and because of her assertion that those days were behind him. He was also a little surprised to realize that Fraya’s business appointment wasn’t exactly paperwork related. For some reason, this displeased him though he didn’t let it show.

“Timmy needs new clothes. And a haircut. Do you think your girls can manage that while we go take care of our business?” Fraya asked, her smile still full of innuendo. 

As though by magic, two younger versions of Maggie seemed to appear out of thin air and came to pull him away from Fraya. He reluctantly let go of her hand and he allowed the girls to pull him toward one of the racks of clothing, lifting his arms and twisting him about to visually estimate his measurements. Fraya made sure Timmy was cooperating and then she and Maggie headed toward the back store. Before closing the door behind her, Fraya stuck her head out and called out to Timmy’s new stylists.

“Girls, he needs everything so make sure to get him a full wardrobe, not just outfits he won't be able to wear every day. Street clothes, a few things for in the house and a couple of going outfits too. Don’t forget underwear and socks. He also needs a pair of shoes, a winter coat and boots and anything else he wants. Ok?” 

The girls nodded enthusiastically, excited at the prospect of the commission they would get from this sale as well as getting to play dress-up with their very own model. Timmy simply looked a little dejected. Fraya had sounded like a mother getting her child ready for a new school year.

“Hey Timmy?” she beckoned and he looked up, lips pursed in a soft pout and the space between his eyebrows creased. “Don’t let them cut your hair too short. I like it long.” Her smile made his heart stop and any resentment he may have felt at being treated like a little boy vanished. There had been just enough fondness in her eyes to remind him that she thought he was beautiful.

Ninety minutes later, Fraya and Maggie emerged from the back store giggling conspiratorially. Maggie had the tell-tale signs of having done Spasm - the dilated pupils, the flushed cheeks, the soften featured and contented grin - and her clothes looked to be a little less perfectly in place then they had been when they’d disappeared earlier. They had their arms around each other's waist, Fraya carrying her pink wool trench draped over her free arm. Timmy ignored a brief flint of childish jealousy at the thought that they’d engaged in more than just a basic drug deal.

Standing on a little round platform in front of a three-way mirror in the corner of the boutique, while the girls fussed on the finishing details of a new outfit, Timmy watched as Maggie fixed the twisted strap of Fraya’s black camisole, fingers lingering on a perfect red imprint of lips on her collarbone. He looked away quickly, feeling as though he was intruding on a private moment.

“Look what WE did.” The girls exclaimed excitedly when they noticed Maggie and Fraya, seemingly unaware of the intimacy they’d just interrupted. 

“Fuck me.” Fraya said, mirroring Timmy’s previous expletive at the warehouse. Her eyes were wide and mouth agape.

Timmy wished he could look self-satisfied the way she had but all he could manage was a shy grin.

The girls had given his hair a decent trim and created some definition in his curls with layers but they’d kept it long enough to be tucked behind his ears. They’d also made him shave the scruff on his chin and upper lip, they’d shaped his eyebrows to get rid of excess growth and must have slathered some sort of serum on his face as well because his skin was glowing.

He’d picked out a basic white t-shirt, sleeves rolled a few turns and hemm messily tucked into skinny black jeans worn low on his hips and rolled at the cuff over black military boots. His stylists had layered different sternum length chains around his neck and they’d decorated both his wrists with various beaded and silicone bracelets to go with the friendship bracelets Maika had made for him a few days prior. They’d even decorate his index and middle finger on his left hand with silver bands, worn low close to his second knuckle. There was an army-green leather bomber jacket thrown on an armchair next to him for later. Even his eyes looked brighter though that probably had more to do with his self-esteem having raised a few notches than the new clothes.

‘’Doesn’t he look like Harry Styles?” The girls cooed dreamily as they continued to fuss and adjust his pants or the sleeves of his t-shirt.

“He’s way hotter than Harry Styles.” Fraya stated, unable to take her eyes off him.

Timmy beamed from his little pedestal, pushing his hands inside his pockets to avoid fidgeting. Her starring didn’t make him uncomfortable, in fact, he felt as though he’d been waiting his whole life for someone to look at him the way she was looking at him now. It did however cause some inappropriate bodily reactions that he was trying to control.

Eventually, Fraya peeled her eyes off of him and returned her attention to Maggie. Together they began going over all the items Timmy and the girls had picked out for his wardrobe, not bothering with the price tags, simply making sure there was enough to last for a week or so without needing to constantly do laundry. 

“Maybe another pair of these in grey if you have them?” Fraya said to the girls, lifting up a pair of jeans to show them. “And also a couple more pairs of these joggers for around the house and we should be good.”

Maggie began ringing it all up at the cash register, taking great care in folding each item properly and wrapping them in expensive-looking tissue paper before placing them neatly in structured monogrammed bags.

“Do you want anything else?” fraya asked Timmy when he came to join her at the counter, carrying Armie’s old clothes under one arm.

Timmy simply shook his head in response, tucking loose curls behind his ear, something he did to keep his hands busy when he was anxious or embarrassed or shy or overwhelmed or any other emotion that was too strong to contain and usually made him start to fidget. He had been living out of a backpack for years before ending up half-dead on Fraya and Armie’s lap, and their generosity had already far surpassed anything anyone could want, much less expect. Beyond a roof, regular meals and no need to run tricks for almost a month, he felt safe with them which was the biggest gift. So for them to buy him all these new things in addition to all that was so overwhelming he had no words to equate the gratitude he felt.

Fraya seemed to sense his anxiety and placed a reassuring arm around his waist, hand falling loosely on his hip. He wanted to hug her desperately but refrained. Instead, he tilted his long neck down to nudge the side of her head with his and whispered an unworthy thank you. She nudged him back, letting him know it was her pleasure.

Timmy choked when he saw the total come up to over 9000$ but Fraya seemed unphased and asked Maggie to have the bags delivered to the warehouse later that evening along with Armie’s old clothes.

While Timmy slipped into his new bomber jacket and allowed the girls to place a black cashmere scarf aesthetically around his long neck, Fraya was looking at her phone. She typed something rapidly with dextrous thumbs and then shoved it back into her purse.

“Armie’s going to be later than expected, so we have to pick up Maika at school. Why don’t we go out for dinner since we’re already in the city?” she proposed. “Show you off a little while we’re at it.”

Timmy acquiesced quickly, thrilled at the prospect of getting to spend time with her alone. Much like the girls had adjusted Timmy’s attire, Maggie came around the counter and adjusted Fraya’s pale pink coat, tightening the belt around her waist before leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips.

“Same time in two weeks?” she asked and Fraya agreed. “By the way, tell your brother I’m expecting a shipment of those shirts he likes next week. I'll have a few delivered at your place when I do.”

“I’ll let Armie know, he’ll be happy. Timmy and I keep stealing them from him.”

“Brother?” Timmy questioned, not understanding but Fraya quickly dismissed the conversation by changing the subject and reminding him that they had to hurry because Maika was waiting.

The school being only a few blocks away, Fraya proposed walking. As they began to make their way, Timmy slipped his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket and Fraya slipped one of hers through his bent elbow and rested it on his upper arm. He liked this. It made him happy. Fraya seemed happy as well. They walked in silence, looking at each other once in a while and smiling. They had grown comfortable with each other in the last few weeks and Timmy was grateful that despite the first impression he’d made - Armie had told him about the vomit of her feet - she’d given him a chance. Now feeling more like the person he had been prior to all the drugs but with the added bonus of having a clear head, he became more self-assured as they walked. Fraya seemed to have the magical ability to keep the voices at bay.

“People are staring at us,” he noted as they waited at a red light, pointing out a group of teenagers hanging out outside a coffee shop who had stopped chit-chatting to gawk.

“People are staring at you and your Harry Styles vibes.” she teased, emphasizing the ‘you’ and he was glad the cold wind had reddened his cheeks because she couldn’t see him blush.

“I’m hotter than Harry Styles apparently.” he retorted with playful arrogance, a mock air of smugness on his beautiful face. This made Fraya laugh and he gleamed happily down at her, his stunning smile making her knees feel weak.

“I’d tell you to get over yourself but you are hotter so...” she validated and laughed again. “Come on, beautiful boy, let’s go before your ego gets out of hand.”

As they were walking, Timmy started to hum a melody, indistinctly at first and gradually more loudly. He matched their steps to the beat in his head, their heels thumping the rhythm on the concrete. The indistinct tune eventually morphed into Harry Styles’ ‘Adore You’. He’d heard the single on the radio on and off all summer and the lyrics had started swimming his head uncontrollably. Eventually, he began singing them out loud.

...

_ You don't have to say you love me _

_ You don't have to say nothing _

_ You don't have to say you're mine _

_ Honey _

_ I'd walk through fire for you _

_ Just let me adore you _

_ Oh, honey _

_ I'd walk through fire for you _

_ Just let me adore you _

_ Like it's the only thing I'll ever do _

_ Like it's the only thing I'll ever do _

At first, Fraya was surprised. She’d looked up and him, eyes slightly squinted as though ready to ask him what he was doing, though she said nothing. But the moment was fleeting and almost immediately her expression changed to glee. She smiled broadly and started to bob her head to the beat as well, singing along with him. Timmy could hear the song clearly in his head as though it were being played on loudspeakers. He’d been told that when others had songs stuck in their heads they didn’t hear them quite so vividly. Before he would have forced himself to stop singing, to stop hearing it. 

Younger he’d have hurt himself by pinching his arm really hard or punching himself in the thigh repeatedly. Anything to distract him from the thoughts until they disappeared. Older, he would have simply taken more pills or prepared another needle. But with Fraya on his arm singing along, he felt free to be himself for the first time in...ever.

Maika was playing in the school gym with the other kids from after school care when they arrived. The caregiver smiled in their direction when she saw Fraya walking toward them and called out to Maika to let her know her mom had arrived. When she spotted Timmy, she dropped the ball she had in her hands and ran directly into his arms. He had bent down into a crouching position to catch her and then lifted her up in the air, her red hair flying up around her angelic face.

“You look handsome.” she cooed, little hands cupping his face.

“Thank you.” he replied and turned his head to kiss her palm. “Did you have a good day?” 

Fraya spoke briefly with the caregiver while Maika told him about what she’d done in art class that morning and once she was done, they headed to the lockers to get her things.

They were walking out of the schoolyard, Fraya and Timmy each holding one of Maika’s hands when a pretty young woman stopped in her tracks and stared for a moment.

“Timmy?” she questioned, eyes widening with the shock of recognition.

Timmy hesitated. It was clear he recognized the twenty-something with a long bob haircut and cute figure smiling excitedly in his direction, but he didn’t seem to want to acknowledge it. Eventually, he realized he didn’t have much choice.

“Saoirse. Hi!” he confirmed, smiling through thinned lips. “How’s it going?” 

Fraya watched the exchange silently and contained an amused grin when he picked Maika up and sat her on his right hip before he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, giving the impression they were a couple. Playing along, gladly if she was honest, she also placed her arm around his waist and leaned affectionately into his shoulder, smiling sweetly at the interloper. 

“Good.” Saoirse stated, taking in the scene in front of her, unsure what she was actually seeing. “You look amazing. I mean, how.. How are you?” 

“You know… things are good.” 

“Gosh I feel like I haven’t seen you since graduation.” she continued, uncomfortably. Timmy simply nodded in response, shifting on the spot, lips still drawn tightly into a tense smile.

“Hi. I’m Fraya.” Fraya interjected, to cut the tension. She stuck out her hand and Saoirse shook it. 

“Hi.” Saoirse said, looking troubled. 

“Shit sorry,” Timmy said snapping out of his uncomfortable silence. “This is Fraya my girlfriend and this is her daughter, Maika.” he introduced, hoping Maika wouldn’t give them away. 

This news seemed to completely throw Saoirse for a loop. She stuttered a confused greeting at Maika and then returned her attention to Timmy.

“Were you out of town? My mom had brunch with your parents a few months ago and they didn’t seem to know where you were.” Saoirse asked. Timmy began to answer noncommittally when Fraya interjected again.

“I’m sorry, Saoirse is it? How do you and Timmy know each other? I don’t think he’s mentioned you.” She was smiling sweetly at the poor confused girl but there was a touch of acidity in her tone.

“Uh… We dated briefly in high school.” Saoirse informed her. She kept shifting her eyes toward Fraya and then back to Timmy, as though not trusting what her eyes were seeing. “Timmy, where have you been?”

“We’ve been travelling interstate for work and we’re actually late for an appointment so we should really get going. Right babe?” Fraya answered in his place again and he thanked her by gently squeezing her shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

“Right. Yeah.” Timmy confirmed. “Sorry Serch but we have to go.” 

“Oh. Ok.” Saoirse replied, visibly distraught. “Well it was nice to see you. I’ll let your mom know you're doing ok.”

“Ok thanks.” Timmy was nodding with that thin uncomfortable smile again.

They waited for Saoirse to walk some distance away before Timmy put Maika back on the ground and they began to walk in the opposite direction, the girls each holding one of his hands.

“You ok?” Fraya asked him once she was certain Saoirse was out of sight. 

She was concerned, he could tell. He nodded and this time his smile was less tense, though there was sadness in his eyes. Assuming this had more to do with the mention of his parents than seeing an old flame she pressed a little. 

“Do you want to call your mom?” When she noticed his eyes were starting to well, she squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Ok. Maybe another day then.” 

Later that evening, they sat in a U shaped booth at a gourmet family dinner and they watched Maika interact with a few other children in the play area, bellies full and minds content. Fraya had chosen to not push further on the subject of his parents, making a mental note to bring it up again at a later time. ‘No mother should live without knowing where her child was or if they were alive or dead’ she thought to herself, again.

Timmy was sitting with his arms draped over the back of the booth nonchalantly, legs stretched and ankle crossed under the table, when a waitress came to ask if she could refill their wine glasses, addressing him rather than both of them. He looked toward Fraya for approval and she deferred back to him, amused that both the waitress and the bartender were clearly infatuated with his good looks. When she brought them their refilled glasses Timmy thanked her and graced her with a smile so glorious that it sent her back to the bar giggly and pink in the cheeks.

“What?” he asked when he looked back to Fraya and found her smirking into her glass.

“Nothing. It’s just nice to finally get to meet the real you.” 

“What do you mean?” he hadn’t taken offence to her statement but it confused him.

“You were flirting with the waitress just now.” she pointed out and he was quick to deny having done so. “You totally were which is fine. I don’t know if it’s the new clothes or the fact that you aren't experiencing withdrawal even from the Spasm anymore but you seem much more relaxed and confident and it’s nice to see. I bet you had all the girls after you before. I mean with that face, probably most of the guys too.” 

Timmy shrugged. She wasn’t wrong. Plenty of people had found him attractive but he inevitably scared them off. Hearing voices wasn’t exactly a big turn on. To detract from the conversation but also because the question had been nagging at him since she had silenced him at Maggie’s he took the opportunity to ask about the mention of a brother.

“Hey how come Maggie thinks Armie is your brother?” 

“Because he sort of is.” Fraya had hesitated before answering, trying to spin the truth in a way that wouldn’t shock him. Best case scenario she had expected him to feel awkward about it, at worst she expected disgust. He surprised her by his curiosity.

“Oh my God, are you guys twins?” he was only half-joking. Fraya laughed nonetheless.

“What? No!! Why would you think that? You just asked me earlier how old we were.”

“Because you seem to have this connection that’s very… I don’t know… symbiotic.” 

“No. We definitely aren’t twins. Our father raised us to be close, that's all.”

The confirmation that they had the same father did give Timmy pause but only long enough to assimilate the information, without judgement. He had seen and done too many things over the past few years to judge anyone for their life choices. He thought back to their conversation in the car earlier that day and understood what she had meant when she had told him that they have been together since they were kids. She was being literal. When she mistook his silence for scrutiny her tone hardened slightly.

“Would it make a difference if I told you we were adopted?”

“No. I don’t care either way. You’re both adults and consenting… wait, you are consenting right?” She held back a laugh at his self-interruption, touched by his concern, and nodded to show that she was in fact consenting. “Ok then, well obviously you love each other so if this works for you, then you know... whatever. It’s not anybody’s business but your own.”

“You’re pretty special you know that?” she had affirmed, leaning her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow resting on the back of the booth close to Timmy’s hand. She smiled at him fondly and he melted. “I still can’t believe we found you.”

Timmy wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that but this pleased him regardless. They sat in silence for a while, watching Maika play, Timmy gently stroking Fraya’s bent elbow, alternating between his fingertips and his nails. He watched as the skin on her bare arms raised with thousands of little goosebumps and had to adjust himself on the bench to calm a growing desire. Fraya noticed and came to still his fingers with her other hand.

‘’Do you need a dose?’’ she asked him, cheeks flushed from what he assumed was the wine.

‘’No.’’ he replied a little tartly. Exhaling heavily he removed his hand from her arm, chewing on his bottom lip to contain his tongue. 

He’d never been good at hiding his emotions. His grandmother used to say that they swam across his face like an aurora borealis. When he started medicating he’d become so numb that he didn’t feel much of anything at all. Now that his body was free of all the chemicals, his ability to remain stoic or straight-faced was non-existent and he didn’t want her to see that he was disappointed that she consistently rebuked his affections or at least always aquated them to Spasm withdrawal. 

Maika came to eat a few fries from her plate of fish and chips, seemingly unaware of the tension that had settled between them. Fraya has told her to eat up as they would be leaving soon which she didn’t not like. She looked to Timmy for support and he negotiated on her behalf for an additional 15 minutes as long as she ate a few more bites of fish. She shovelled three huge pieces into her mouth and rushed back to her game.

‘’Wrapped around her little finger.’’ he joked self-deprecatingly and Fraya nodded in agreeance. ‘’Hey, how come Armie speaks Russian but not French like you?’’ he asked to fill the silence that had grown heavy between them. He had a habit of randomly asking questions that seemed unimportant to the situation at hand.

‘’Armie can speak some french he just chooses not to. That being said, he was born in Russia. Our father was there on business and ended up dating his mother for a few years. She died when Armie was 7. They weren’t together anymore and in fact, he’d left Russia a few years prior but since Armie had no other family and our dad was still listed as his mom’s emergency contact, he came to get him.’’ 

‘’And you?’’ 

‘’Similar circumstances. I was born in Aix-en-Provence in the south of France. My mother died in childbirth and I went to live with my grandmother. Armie and our father had moved to Aix for his work and rented a room in my grandmother's house for the duration. When I was 5 my grandmother had a heart attack and died shortly after. We had no other family and Armie and I were close so our father just took me with him when he left. And there you have it.’’

There was silence again while Timmy digested their story. Though she delivered the tale stoically, Timmy could tell it was hard for her to share it with him and he was grateful that she trusted him enough to do so.

‘’I’m sorry about your mom and your grandma.’’ he said softly, hoping his eyes conveyed the sorrow he felt for her. ‘’Do you see your father often?’’ he questioned, knowing he probably shouldn’t invade her privacy but he couldn’t help himself with curiosity. 

‘’He passed away six years ago.’’ this time her stoicism was faulty and she swallowed back and lump in her throat. 

‘’Shit. I’m sorry.’’ he sputtered with guilt and embarrassment. ‘’How did he die?’’ 

‘’He died protecting Maika and I actually.’’ she could tell this revelation had completely shocked him and to avoid the inevitable follow up question she continued. ‘’We were living in Ireland at the time. Maika’s mom was a junky. She was shooting up in a dirty alley with some unsavoury friends when she went into labour. Our father found them and took them to the hospital. Surprisingly, Maika was perfect and healthy. But her mother didn’t make it. Our father agreed to take care of the baby until they could locate her family. About 10 days later, this man showed up at our door with his lackeys and insisted he was Maika’s father and he was coming to get her. My father and Armie refused and asked for proof. Of course he didn't have any. Things got violent and while Armie was busy fighting two of them off outside, the guy claiming to be Maika’s father pulled out a gun. I was holding the baby and he threatened to shoot me if I didn’t hand her over. Obviously I refused, my father got between us and the guy shot twice hitting him in the chest and in the neck. When Armie heard the shots he ran back but it was too late, our father was already dead.’’

‘’Oh my god. That’s…’’ Timmy began but stopped mouth agape, unable to finish his sentence in a way that wouldn’t seem offensive or insensitive.

‘’Fucked up?’’ Fraya asserted. And Timmy nodded. 

‘’And horrible and sad and a million other things I can’t even begin to express.’’ He wanted desperately to hug her but he could tell she wouldn't let him so instead stretched a little to touch her elbow again and stroked it delicately. ‘’What happened to the men who attacked you?’’

‘’Armie took care of it.’’ she’d answered very matter of factly, eye locked on Timmy. the coldness in her stare told him everything he needed to know.

‘’How did you end up living here?’’ he had to clear his throat before he could speak, the enormity of what she’d just confessed needing time to process.

‘’It wasn’t safe for us to stay anymore because of what happened. And It obviously wasn’t safe for Maika either so we had to leave. Our father was an arts and rare artifacts dealer who operated mostly on the black market. Armie contacted some of their connections and got us passage on the first freighter leaving port that night and this is where it was heading. That was 6 years ago.’’ She waited expectantly for a few seconds and when Timmy didn’t say anything she added: ‘’You didn’t think we were good people did you?’’

She had wanted her question to sound playful but there was too much truth in it to fully hit its mark. Before Timmy could answer, maika came rushing back to the table and emphatically stated she was tired and ready to go home now. 

Fraya paid the bill while Timmy helped Maika on with her coat and then put on his own. They walked out of the restaurant silently and waited for the Uber Fraya had requested. When it got there a few minutes later, Timmy waited as Fraya bent into the car to buckle Maika in. When she stood back up to straighten her coat Timmy slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a full-body hug. Though it took her by surprise, she didn’t stop him. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him back.

‘’I don’t think you’re bad people.’’ he whispered in her ear, lips grazing her skin as he spoke. ‘’And I don’t care what you or Armie do or did. I would do the same thing if it meant protecting you and Maika. As for the rest, I don’t care about any of it either. For the record, I wasn’t special before you found me.’’


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PG-13 content just FYI

It was well past Maika’s bedtime by the time they made it home. She was half asleep against Fraya’s side, cradled under a protective arm, when the Uber arrived at the warehouse. Timmy picked her up and carried her in, holding her front to front, her arms draped loosely around his neck and her cheek pressed against his shoulder, legs dangling on either side of his hips. Timmy waited as Fraya pulled off Maika’s boots and kissed her pink hand, whispering wishes for sweet dreams up at her before he took her up to her room to get her into bed. At six years old she wasn’t exactly a featherweight but Timmy seemed to have no difficulty carrying her up the stairs, despite his thin frame. Fraya smiled fondly as she watched them go. He had come a long way since the night Armie had brought him home and she was amazed by how quickly he had recovered.

“She’s a little faker.” he said when he came back down more than half an hour later. “By the time I got her undressed and into bed, she was wide awake and managed to get me to read her a chapter in her book and sing her a couple of songs before she would let me leave.”

Fraya was in the bedroom, moving some clothes from Armie’s wardrobe into her own, clearing some space from all of Timmy’s new things that had arrived while he was with Maika.

“It’s ok to say no to her you know.” she clarified after he had dropped onto the bed, clearly tired. “She can be a bit of a princess.”

“But then she’ll be mad at me.” he countered, looking genuinely concerned by the prospect which made Fraya smile.

“She’ll get over it.” she insisted but Timmy shrugged.

“I won’t.” he assured her and Fraya had no doubt he meant it. 

She stole a glance in his direction and allowed her eyes to linger on him since his own were closed. The light from the Tiffany wisteria lamp on the side table beamed softly coloured circles on his face and his long neck, the light shifting when she moved, disturbing its trajectory. He was laying flat on his back, arms spread and palms facing up, his pale skin speckled with faint pink scares where needle marks had healed. He was breathing evenly, making his stomach rise and fall in a slow rhythm that attracted her attention to an even paler stretch of skin on his belly where his t-shirt had ridden up. Forcing herself to look away from the trail of blue veins and the thin line of fine light brown hairs that lead into his boxers, the elastic band of which was peaking out of his jeans, she went back to putting away the clothes. 

“You don’t have to do that.” he said groggily a while later. He had forced his eyes open to see what she was up to and felt guilty that she was doing so much for him. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” A sudden wave of fatigue had rendered him nonfunctional and the prospect of getting up was daunting.

“I don’t mind.” she asserted, slipping a pile of neatly folded t-shirts onto a shelf.

“I’ll help then.” he grunted, peeling his back off the mattress, unable to find the energy to get up fully.

“I think you’ve done enough for today.” she said, coming to sit next to him on the bed. Though he’d recovered quickly in the weeks since they’d found him, he still wasn’t completely healed and she didn’t want him to overexert himself. “You look like you’re about ready to pass out.” 

Without needing or waiting to be asked she began unclasping and removing his bracelets, only leaving Maika’s creations in place. She removed the rings on his left hand, taking a moment to admire his long fingers, before leaning in to remove the chains around his neck. 

“You should get out of those clothes.” she directed, putting the jewelry on the nightstand.

He grunted again and she waited patiently as he struggled through unbuttoning his new jeans and shimming out of them, before taking off his white t-shirt and falling back onto the pillows, wearing only his new boxer briefs. Fraya grabbed the discarded clothes and threw them into a laundry basket close to the large wardrobes. 

She was about to pull the duvet over him when the birthmark on his abdomen caught her attention. She could have sworn she had seen the pigment move at the edges. Intrigued she bent down to get a closer look, grazing her fingertips over the darker patch of skin. Though it looked somewhat different than she remembered, nothing was moving. She told herself it must have been a trick of the light but took another look just to be sure, tracing the outer edge of the mark with her index finger.

She was startled by a faint moan and looked at him, worried he was in pain, quickly realizing that wasn’t the case. He was watching her with a fiery gaze through lowered dark lashes, lips parted seductively, the rhythm of his breathing heavy and accelerated. She knew she should remove her hand from his side but didn’t, eyes locked on his, paralysed by muscles tensing all through her body. After long seconds he brought his fingers to fist loosely around her wrist and she didn’t pull away. She licked her lips to moisten them, her breathing having matched his in the rapid up and down of arousal and she flattened her palm to make full contact with his skin. Slowly, he began directing her fingers across his belly, abdominal muscles flexing under her touch. 

He closed his eyes and lolled his head into the pillow when she allowed him to continue after a full pass, getting comfortable and allowing his body to fully give in to the feel of her on his skin. He bit his bottom lip to contain another soft moan when he moved her hand over the top of the inguinal crease of his right side, the proximity to his groin delicious and torturous at the same time; and again when she used her nails as he trailed her hand back to his belly button, blazing red streaks marking his cream coloured skin.

Mesmerized, Fraya watched his face change as he touched himself with her hand; his cheeks flushing and his bottom lip swelling under his teeth. Her mouth watered as she wondered what images she could trace with her tongue over his throat and jaw by following the trail of beauty marks and freckles that speckled his skin. She swallowed hard and looked down to where he had rested his free hand high on her thigh, two fingers slipped into one of the rips of her jeans, her skin on fire under his. 

Moving her palm from his belly where she had been caressing circles into the hollow of his belly button with her middle finger, Timmy directed her hand lower until her fingertips grazed the elastic of his boxers. She felt his stomach cave as he sucked it in to allow her fingers easier access past the waistband and then even lower until she felt the beginning of soft pubic hair. 

Realizing what would happen if she allowed it to continue, Fraya stood brashly, tearing her wrist from his hand as she did so. The lusty daze she’d been under watching his arousal flagrant on his beautiful face evaporated and she was left feeling guilty for having allowed it to go that far.

“I think you need a dose.” she stated, almost running out of the bedroom to get the vial in the kitchen, his frustrated groan ringing loudly in her ears.

She returned to Timmy’s bedside after having taken a moment to regain her composure, finding him staring up at the ceiling, the bulge in his underwear still very prevalent. He was shaking his head almost imperceptibly, nostrils flared, mouth pursed in a frustrated pout. 

“I can do it myself,” he lashed out when she bent close with the vial to give him the dose taking the container out of her hand more roughly than necessary. This upset her. He’d never shown anger toward her before.

“Fine!” she snapped back, eyebrows furrowed and top lip curled at the cupid’s bow. She took a step back and waited expectantly, arms crossed.

“Oh NOW you wanna watch.” he spat, the acridness of it leaving a shameful taste in her own mouth. 

There were a few seconds of tense silence during which they stared each other down. If he was going to be angry, she could be angry too. Seeing as how he wasn’t going to take the Spasm with her there she eventually turned on her heels and walked away saying she was going to take a shower.

She spent a long time mumbling to herself under the hot water, acting out all the sarcastic things she’d wished she’d had the ability to say to him but that hadn’t come to her in the moment. She was normally very good in arguments, her wit and her capacity to remain calm useful tools in the face of often erratic adversaries. But his anger had stung and left her feeling hurt. Eventually, her temper faded and once calm she felt regret for having mishandled the situation. 

Wrapped in a plush terry cloth bathrobe, Fraya walked back to the bedroom, having made up her mind to apologize for her rash reaction but also ready to explain all the reasons why what had happened wasn’t appropriate and couldn’t happen again. 

Timmy was curled in the fetal position, still uncovered, the Spasm vial clutched in his hand, open and empty. He looked to be asleep. She sighed heavily, bothered that she had allowed him to fall asleep thinking she was angry with him and him being angry with her. She took the vial from his hand, placed it on the nightstand next to his new jewelry and pulled the duvet over him. She brushed a few curly strands from his face, tucking them gently behind his ear and allowed herself to glide her fingers gently over the sharp angles of his jaw.

Again Timmy surprised her by grabbing hold of her hand only this time he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. 

“I’m sorry.” he muttered against the back of her hand, not even having the strength to open his eyes.

“I’m sorry too.” she whispered back, bending down to kiss his forehead. “Go to sleep.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mature content warning.

It was close to midnight when Armie returned home after his appointments. He was careful to move quietly, locking the front door with a click of the deadbolt that he hoped wouldn’t resonate too loudly, before tiptoeing into the open living area like a mouse despite his large size. 

The warehouse was dark, the only light coming from the street lamps in the parking lot, which filtered through the large windows that lined two of the four peripheral walls, and a faint glow coming from the frosted glass walls of the second storey. He climbed the staircase to Maika’s room slowly, reminding himself that he needed to have it repainted, its railing feeling rough and chipped under his palm as he pulled himself up with each climb to help lessen the sound of his heavy footfalls on the old iron. 

Maika was sleeping soundly in the way only children could, awkwardly angled and boxed in by a plethora of dolls and plush toys. Armie picked up her favourite teddy bear from the floor and placed it close to her before kissing her cheek. He leaned against her dresser and watched her sleep for a few peaceful moments, overwhelmed with the love he felt for her and for the family she made them, as non-conventional as it was. As he did every time when we watched her sleep, He hoped this life they’d made together was enough for her. He had grown up in a non-conventional family and had never felt a lack of love or sense of belonging, but then he had Fraya. Maika was facing the reality of their lives alone. Though Fraya’s and his lives coming together may have seemed like kismet or serendipity to those looking in, their meeting was not a coincidence. The same could be said about Maika he remembered, thinking back to Ireland six years earlier and what they had to sacrifice to have her. Now that they had found Timmy, everything he’d been working toward to keep Maika and Fraya safe were falling into place. It was exciting and frightening in equal measure. After kissing Maika one more time he turned off her bedside lamp and headed back down, closing her bedroom door behind him. 

He went to the bedroom to look in on Fraya and Timmy, surprised to find only the latter in the bed. The vial of Spasm was glinting in a moonbeam on the bedside table. He pocketed it and he made a mental note to talk to Fraya about starting to wean the boy off the drug completely if he was going to reach his full potential.

Timmy became a little agitated in his sleep and muttered incomprehensibly. Armie ran a soothing hand through his hair until he calmed. He waited a few seconds to make sure the dream had passed and once it had, he kissed the boy’s temple before going to look for Fraya. He found her sleeping on the large leather sofa, legs tucked as much as possible into the terrycloth of her robe for warmth. She was clutching the book she had been reading against her chest, her reading light still on though hidden under a fold of fabric. Armie took the book out of her arms and placed it on the coffee table before crouching next to her. He shook her shoulder gently and she stirred.

“Hi.” he said, his face soft and smiling when she opened her eyes. “It’s late, why aren’t you in bed?” 

“I was waiting for you.” she replied after a loud yawn that made her eyes water. 

Armie brushed a tear from her cheek and leaned in to kiss her gently. Despite the listlessness of sleep, Fraya responded by fisting her fingers in the collar of his sweater and pulling him closer; the earlier incident with Timmy having left her feeling wanton. They kissed for a long time, longer than they had had the opportunity to do so since Timmy had come into their lives and began sharing their bed. Armie parted her thighs so he could climb between them, settling on top of her, his familiar weight feeling like a favourite blanket being pulled over her for warmth and comfort. He undid the belt of her robe and pushed the fabric aside so he could feel her skin under his hands, the cloth of his trousers and the wool of his sweater titillating her senses. There was no urgency in their actions. Theirs was the leisurely pace of those who knew each other's bodies intimately and blindly, with no need to rush or impress.

“How did your meetings go?” Faya asked a long moment later, whispering so as not to wake Timmy. Sounds had the bad habit of carrying in the open space, especially at night. 

“Fine I guess.” he answered, somewhat dejectedly, cheek nestled in the valley between her breasts, enjoying the rhythmic beating of her heart in his ear. He sounded tired suddenly. It had been a long day. “Funds are a little tight because sales were low this month for obvious reasons. That’s why I went to June’s tonight. I found a buyer for the sixteenth century Carracci we smuggled in from Budapest last year. That should tide us over until we ramp up production again. How was Maggie? I saw you got her to cut Timmy’s hair.”

“Isn’t he pretty?” She mused rhetorically, ignoring Armie’s financial worries, thinking back to the afternoon when they had walked arm in arm down Main street, singing to Harry Styles, all eyes on him, admiring how beautiful he was and how he seemed to not care what anyone else thought but her. “Maggie’s good. We have another appointment in two weeks. You should call her to thank her, she ordered you some new shirts. They’ll be delivered next week. Oh, and by the way, I had to move some of your stuff into my wardrobe to make room for all the new clothes we bought Timmy.”

“How much did that set us back?” Armie asked, still thinking about the conversation he’d had with the lawyers earlier in the day regarding their affairs and assets.

Money was rarely an issue for them. Armie had taken over their father’s business after he’d passed away but finding and selling rare artifacts took time and resources that in turn required preliminary investments that didn’t necessarily engineer a return quickly. Therefore they relied heavily on the production and distribution of Spasm to live and pay for recurring expenses such as the mortgage on the warehouse and Maika’s school. A simple dose retailed for 500.00$. Packages like what Maggie purchased were anywhere from 2,000$ to 10,000$ depending on services rendered. Because of Timmy’s presence, production had been almost impossible and the little they managed to produce had gone to getting him clean from the rest of the shit he had been putting into his body. So they had been living off the reserves, which were now depleted; this had a direct correlation on their cash flow.

“A little over nine grand.” Fraya informed him, nonchalantly.

“FRAYA!” he chastised, lifting his head to look at her, visibly upset. 

He rarely used her full name, usually calling her Aya, the diminutive he’d given her when they were children. If he called her by her full name it usually meant he was upset.

“Oh come on.” she deflected. “You have suits that are worth more than that. You just said you sold the Carracci so we’re fine right? He needed clothes. He can’t wear yours forever.”

“Maybe I like that you guys wear my clothes.” he replied petulantly, resting his chin on her breast bone. “They smell like you after. And it’s a hell of a lot cheaper too.”

“Ok Ebenezer. Shall we cancel Christmas too?” Fraya derided, ruffling his hair playfully so he would understand she was just teasing.

“Christmas isn’t for another 10 months.” he replied dryly and she couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

“Great. So we’ll have time to save up then.” 

“What’s left in the supply?” He asked to change the subject. “The book club ladies want a party tomorrow night. I told them I’d get back to them in the morning.” 

The book club ladies were a group of friends, all in their 30s or 40s, who had started a book club as a guise for a night out away from their husbands. Every few months, they rented a room at June's and called Armie for a few hours of pleasure and a shot of Spasm each. They were all wealthy and bored which made for easy money.

“Nothing. I gave the last dose to Timmy tonight. I’ll get you some in the morning. You can book the meeting.”

“Why procrastinate?” he asked, pulling from his pocket the vial he’d grabbed off the bedside table and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger above her nose. Fraya sighed and shook her head discontentedly.

“Armie, it’s late. And Timmy is right there. What if he wakes up?” 

“Aya come on. We are gonna have to tell him sooner rather than later. He needs to know and we need to start stocking the shelves. He’s clean now. He can handle it. And if he can’t then we need to know. One vial. That’s all I need tonight. It will take care of the Book Club ladies tomorrow and pay for your shopping trip at the same time.”

“I’d rather not have that conversation with him tonight though. So I’d like to avoid waking him up.” she pressed, despite knowing she’d already lost the battle, Armie having begun a slow descent between her legs until the back of her thighs were above his shoulders.

“Then be quiet.” 

She glared down at him but took the vial from his hand regardless, her body already reacting to what it knew was coming even if he hadn’t touched her yet. He chuckled and she huffed. ‘Bastard,’ she thought, yet still she closed her eyes and settled into the cushions, sighing with pleasure as soon as his lips met those between her legs. 

Armie started slowly. He was playing with her and she knew it, knowing that it was hard for her to be quiet when his tongue moved this way or that, his expert knowledge of her body, allowing him to bring her to climax in record time if he wanted too, which didn’t seem to be the goal at the moment. 

Two could play that game and she was going to make him work for it a little bit. To prolong the inevitable, Fraya began thinking of random things, anything to take her mind off of what Armie was doing with his fingers and his tongue. She thought of the parent-teacher meeting she had scheduled for next week and the cupcakes she needed to make for the bake sale, putting together a grocery list of items she knew they were missing. Maika liked burnt sugar cupcakes with cream cheese icing and Timmy liked red velvet so she could use a double batch of icing for both. Armie liked chocolate on chocolate but too bad for him.

Seeing that she wasn’t responding as eagerly as she normally did, Armie doubled his efforts and so fraya had to double hers to stay focused on prolongation. She thought of the laundry that needed to be done and the dishes she and Timmy had left in the sink after lunch.

“Everything ok?” Armie asked after a few minutes, perplexed that his ministrations had yet to yield the expected result.

“I’m fine.” she answered, stifling a laugh and then a gasp when his mouth found it’s target again.

She had run out of distractions quickly and her mind was beginning to wander. She thought back to that afternoon with Maggie and how her friend and client had extracted her own dose in much the same way Armie was extracting this one. She chuckled to herself remembering how disappointed the store owner had been that Timmy hadn’t been brought along to play with them, telling her in private of all the dirty things she would do to him if Fraya had let her. She fast-forwarded to Timmy standing in front of the mirror, and how stunned she had been at his transformation. Not that they’d done much but it was as though she was finally seeing what she knew was under the surface. He was definitely hotter than Harry Styles. 

She recalled the way it felt to be walking down the street with him after that, his self-confidence exuded in every step and when he had started to sing Adore You, her heart had skipped a beat. Fast forward again to the restaurant, his fingers grazing her skin below the elbow and the way he licked his lips while looking at hers as she recounted their sordid tale. Then again to his lips next to her ear as they hugged, his body pressed firmly against hers, his hair tickling her nose. 

With no effort at all she found herself thinking of when they’d gotten home, Timmy putting Maika to bed, there was something inherently sexy about a man who was good with children, but it was more than that. It had to do with the way he immediately loved the child, the way Armie and Fraya loved her. She could sense it. 

Soon her mind had brought her to their bed just a few hours earlier, where she had helped him underdress. Though he’d taken her by surprise when he’d gripped her wrist, everything that followed she could have stopped much earlier had she wanted it too. She simply hadn’t wanted to. She thought of the look on his face, eyes closed, lips slick where he had licked them, his pulse almost visible in the veins in his long graceful neck when his blood quickened under her touch. There was a moment when her fingers broached the elastic band of his boxers that she’d almost given in to temptation and allowed him to push her hand further, knowing that the instant her hand took hold of him they’d both be lost.

Now, as Armie worked his tongue feverishly between her thighs she allowed herself to imagine what that would have felt like. 

“Fuck.” she murmured, all her muscles tightening as her body got ready for the collection.

She could feel the weight of him in her palm, his fingers tightening to the point of bruising around her wrist, the hand that he had placed on her thigh squeezing equally hard before his long fingers soothed and smoothed their way higher. In her fantasy, she wasn't wearing her jeans and his fingertips quickly found the spot where Armie’s tongue was working in the real world. This sent her over the edge almost immediately.

Her entire body convulsed and clenched, her thighs closing around Armie’s ears, and despite gargantuan efforts she wasn't able to contain a final moan as she climaxed. Her body shuddered and shook as the familiar blue vapour escaped her lips in snake-like curls and began creeping upwards toward the ceiling though she was too spent to capture it in the vial. Timmy had to scramble to grab the container from her and collect it before it disappeared. Once he’d done so he capped the vial and set it on the coffee table. She was still panting heavily, eye unfocused. 

“You good?” Armie asked after checking over to the bed to make sure Timmy was still asleep. He crawled back over her, belly nestled between her thighs, chin resting on her breast bone. Her body was on fire, he could feel it through the knit of his sweater and the cotton of the shirt he wore underneath. Fraya nodded eyes still closed. “That was pretty intense for somebody who wasn’t in the mood. I could barely fit it all in the vial there was almost too much. Fraya acknowledged this with a grunt. “What were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?” she asked defensively, the question having sobered her from her orgasm coma. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone. I mean anything.” 

Armie scoffed, a smile playing with his features devilishly.

“Ohhhhhh.” he teased. “It’s a who then. Come on spill.” 

“Stop. It was nobody.” 

“Tell me or I'll tickle you until you do. Which will wake up the pretty boy over there and you’ll have to explain to him why your face is on fire right now and why you're so wet that the collar of my sweater is damp.”

“Fine!” She blurted out, panicked at the idea of having to tell not only Armie but Timmy as well what she’d been fantasizing about just moments ago. Thinking quickly she said the first thing that came to mind. “Harry Styles. I was thinking about Harry Styles.”

“What?” Armie gauffed, having to bury his face in between her breasts to stop his laughter from waking up both Timmy and Maika. “Harry Styles? Since when are you into Harry Styles?” he managed to ask through two fits of mirth.

“Shut up!” she demanded, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the beginnings of a smile. Armie’s amusement was contagious despite herself.

“Wait till I tell Timmy about this.” he teased which merited him a hard punch to the shoulder.

“Don’t you dare.” she warned which just made him laugh more. “Oh my god that felt good.” she said after a while,running her hands through her hair, nails scratching at her scalp, as she stretched languidly under Armie. 

“Your welcome.” Armie acknowledged cheekily before he got up. “I need to take a shower.”

“I shower already.” she protested, when he grabbed her hand and pulled her up as well.

“So shower again.” 

The dark unpolished onyx that covered the walls, ceiling and floor of the walk-in shower were still warm to the touch from the shower Fraya had taken earlier in the evening. The stone felt rough under her fingers and she took a moment to breathe, inhaling deeply and holding it in for a count of four before exhaling, allowing the stone’s energy to penetrate her body, making her fingers tingle. Her father had taught she and Armie about crystals, gems and stones and all the ways in which ancient alchemists had used them to heal the bodies and the minds of their followers. A form of medicine that had long since been debunked by non-believers but she knew to be valid and sacred. There was a lot she hadn’t told Timmy at dinner earlier of her upbringing and her family. Things she knew she would have to share sooner rather than later. Things not only relating who she was but what she was. She and Armie both. And eventually she would have to also tell him about Maika. And about himself if Armie was right, which she was starting to believe could be the case.

Armie turned on the water at the temperature he knew she liked, which was close to scalding, and got himself fully wet before moving aside so she could step under the rainfall showerhead. He’d turned on all the wall nozzles as well and scrubbed himself clean with the exfoliating body bar she bought for him. They talked about their day as Fraya took the bar of soap from his hands and motioned for him to turn so she could scrub his back, his bum and the back of his thighs. When she was done, he turned and exchanged the bar of soap of his bottle of shampoo and kneeled before her. On his knees, his lips were at the level of her ribs and he interrupted his description of the lunch he’d had in between meetings to kiss a spot just above her navel.

“I forgot to tell you earlier, I think you might be right about Timmy.” she said, squeezing a small amount of the product in her hand and placing the bottle back on it’s shelf.

“You  **_forgot_ ** to tell me that?” he asked, looking up at her with the exact level of excitement she’d anticipated he would display upon hearing her admission. He looked like a little boy, eyes turned to the heavens and this made her smile. “How so?” he pressed, anticipation blatant on his face.

“I think he’s an empath.” he shared, hands ruffling his hair to lather up the shampoo before she began to massage his scalp.

She went on to tell him about their walk that afternoon, after they had left Maggie’s and were heading to pick up Maika. How she had been singing a song in her head as she had walked, omitting to mention that the song in question was a Harry Styles song of course, and how Timmy had picked up on it and began singing it as well. 

“Are you sure it’s not just something you heard in the store or maybe playing in a passing car?” Armie asked, playing devil’s advocate.

“No. You know Maggie only plays classical. I’m telling you, he picked up exactly where i was, same beat same verse even. We were signing it together.”

“Maybe he’s telepathic!?” Armie offered as an alternative. But Fraya had thought of that initially as well but explained why that couldn't be the case. 

“If he was a telepath, he’d have run out of this house screaming by now between you and I and what goes on in our heads you don’t think?” She had said it in jest but it was still an accurate statement.

“True.” Armie agreed, gurgling into the spray of water from the handshower Fraya had taken from the back wall to rinse the suds from his hair and neck. 

When she was done with his hair she bent down to kiss him, hand cupping his face gently, the pads of her fingers grating over the scruff of his beard lovingly.

“So you believe me then.” Armie asked as he turned the shower off and grabbed two towels from the rack on the opposing wall. “You think we really found him.”

“He for sure has powers. I mean, between what happened at June’s when you found him and being an empath, he’s definitely one of us. I don’t know about him being a witch though Armie. He doesn’t have the markings.”

“He does. On his right hip.” Armie insisted but Fraya shook her head.

“It’s just a birthmark.” 

“I don’t think it is. It changes. Birthmarks don’t change.” He was adamant. 

“Ok! We’ll see I guess.” Fraya thought it best not to mention she may have seen the marking on Timmy’s flank moving earlier today as well. Not to get his hopes up. “Do you think he knows?”

“That he’s a witch?” he wanted to validate.

“Or at the very least special, like us.” she clarified.

“I really don’t think he does.” Timmy said after pondering the question for a few seconds. 

“Then we’re going to have to be conscious and careful about how we tell him. Not to scare him.” Fraya dictated, wanting to make sure Armie didn’t let his excitement get the better of him and traumatize Timmy with admissions he wouldn’t be able to process out of context.


	7. Chapter 7

Fraya woke up to the sounds of clinking dishes and hushed giggling coming from the kitchen. She had a bit of a hangover from the wine at supper and the lack of sleep having gone to bed so late. Her head was pounding and the brightness for the daylight on the other side of her closed eyelids burned. She stretched her arms on either side of her, eyes still closed not wanting to let the light in, realizing she was alone in the bed. Groaning, she lifted her head and looked toward the noise, eyes scrunched to minimize the assault on her retinas. 

Armie, Timmy and Maika were all sitting at the island having breakfast. Maika sat between the two men, her red hair still messy from sleep, cascading down her back over pink soft skin. They were all in their underwear and nothing else, backs curved and they hunched over their bowls and slurped up milk from their spoons, laughing at the sounds they were making.

“Why is this child naked?” she asked after she had mustered the energy to get out of bed. 

She picked up Maika’s discarded nightgown off the floor and pulled it over her head despite her protestations. The little girl grudgingly pushed her arms through the sleeves and Fraya pulled the fabric over her body before kissing the top of her little head.

“She took it off saying it wasn’t fair that boys didn’t have to wear a shirt and she did.” Timmy explained in their defence. 

“We couldn’t argue with that. Women can do anything men can do. Isn’t that what you are always telling us?” Armie continued, winking at Maika before shovelling a huge spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Yes. Another solution would have been for the boys to put shirts on so the 6-year-old didn’t freeze to death or eat like a barbarian. But you know, way to be feminist allies!”

“She’s cranky this morning.” Armie whispered deliberately loud into Maika’s ear and the little girl had to press her little fingers to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I think Aya needs some coffee.”

He got up and rounded the stool to give Aya a one-armed hug, leaving a kiss on an exposed shoulder, going to the espresso machine and getting it ready to make Aya her morning latte. She took his seat at the breakfast bar, pushing the bowl of cereal away from her, the smell of it making her nauseous.

“You ok?” Timmy asked, looking concerned, making her think she probably looked as rough as she felt.

“Headache.” was all she answered, brow furrowed against the pain.

“Want some peppermint oil?” Armie asked and she nodded. 

“I’ll get it.” Timmy interjected, getting up and going to the cupboard where Fraya kept all the essential oils, herbs and spices that she used daily both for remedies and cooking. 

He knew what to do as she had done it for him countless times in the first days of his withdrawals, the headaches being sometimes so strong he thought he would go blind. Allowing a few drops to drip onto his fingers, he dabbed his fingertips on her temples, her forehead and the nape of her neck before massaging the oil into her skin gently. Fraya closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the pepperiness start to clear her sinuses and her lungs. Once most of the oil was gone from his hands he then pushed his fingers into her hair, which hung in loose messy waves because she’d gone to bed with it wet, and he massaged her scalp as well. After a few minutes, he moved from her scalp to the back of her neck and her shoulders, gathering her hair and placing it over her collarbone to get it out of the way, his fingers digging into her flesh deliciously.

“Drink this.” Armie ordered, placing the latte bowl in front of her. “It’s a double shot, it should help.”

Timmy continued to rub her shoulders as she began to sip from the bowl gingerly, although more gently so she didn’t slip the hot drink all over herself. By the time she’d drank about half her coffee, she started to feel better. She patted Timmy’s hand on her shoulder, indicating he could stop his ministrations and stretched on the stool, a few bones cracking back into place loudly. 

“Why are you all up so early? Isn't it saturday?” she questioned from over the rim of her bowl.

“No rest for the wicked.” Armie joked before laying out the day's planned activities. “It’s Alice’s birthday party today. You put it on the calendar, remember?”

“Shit. I forgot to buy something for her.” Fraya interjected. “It's a sleepover right?”

Maika nodded.

“We’ll stop and pick up a gift on the way there.” Armie reassured her. “After we drop her off, Timmy and I are going to the storage locker so he can help me to get the Carracci. We will drop it off at the buyer’s on the way home. We should be back around 3 giving us enough time to get cleaned up and grab a bite to eat before we head back out. The appointment with the book club ladies is at 8. I don’t think we’ll be home too late from that either. ”

“The book club?” Fraya was immediately taken aback. “You’re not taking Timmy to the book club meeting.” she stated firmly.

“I’m not?” Armie asked, amused.

“Maika, go upstairs and get dressed please.” Fraya asked the little girl so as not to have this discussion in front of her. The little girl began to protest but thought better of it mid-sentence seeing the look Aya was giving her and she scurried up the stairs to her room. Once Fraya was certain she was out of earshot she continued: “You are NOT taking him to the book club meeting. Do you know what this book club meeting is?” she asked Timmy and he nodded, showing that he did. This angered her. “No! He’s not going. You’re not going.”

“Fraya,” Armie began in the tone he used when he was going to placate her. 

“No Armie! He’s done with that life. We got him out of there and we are NOT going to be sending him back in.”

“Just so we’re clear, I can take him on a drop off for a black market sale of a stolen Carracci but I can’t take him to see the book club ladies?” He was being deliberately dense.

“Well now that you mention it, he shouldn't be going to that either. It’s dangerous.”

“Ok mom! Relax.” Armie was getting annoyed as well despite the amusement he was unable to hide. “Timmy’s a big boy. He can handle a few handsy ladies. All he has to do is pour them a few drinks, make them feel special and look pretty while they dose. Nobody is asking him to fuck their brains out one after the other. That’s what I'm there for. But it’s not like I’m going to make him sit there and watch. Unless he wants too. Do you want too?” he asked Timmy with a smirk. 

The question had taken him off-guard and he stuttered trying to find an adequate response. This seemed to anger Fraya even more. Timmy watched the exchange as though he were watching a tennis match, head pivoting from one to the other, neither of them stopping long enough to ask him what he wanted to do. Either was fine by him. Although he was worried he may relapse, Armie had assured him he wouldn't be required to do anything he didn’t feel comfortable doing and he trusted him. Plus, the idea of watching Armie ravage anybody wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Also, this would allow him to start contributing financially to his stay at least in some way elevating the worry that they would begin to resent him if he continued to be a burden. 

“The alternative is that he stays here with you and gets a crash course in Spasm 101. Because we need to refill the supply. And we need to do it today. It can't wait anymore.” As he spoke Armie pointed to a series of ten empty vials he had lined up on the back counter. “So what’s it gonna be?”

Fraya hesitated for a moment. Staying at the warehouse was definitely safer for him but she didn’t trust herself to be able to get at least a few vials filled with him around and not end up doing something she would regret. Besides, she still hadn’t figured out how she was going to talk to him about everything she and Armie had discussed the night before.

“Fine! But you better not let anything bad happen to him.” she warned, an angry finger pointed in Armie’s direction before she turned the digit toward Timmy. “And you, don’t let him convince you to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing, no matter what extra cash or gifts they're promising you. If you don’t feel right about something, leave.”

“I’m not a fucking pimp Fraya!” Armie stated unable to contain a laugh. “Nobody is sending him to the wolves. Your little boy is going to be fine.”

Fraya glared at him from over the rim of the bowl but didn’t argue. He was surprised at her reaction toward this. He hadn't expected her to be so vehemently opposed to Timmy working the market with them. It wasn’t as though Timmy hadn’t experienced things far more seedy and depraved than what was going to be taking place that evening. She knew that the ladies were harmless so he didn’t understand why she was being so protective. 

“Is there something you aren’t telling me here? Cause you’re overreacting.” he stated, suspicion starting to take hold inconspicuously in the back of his mind. Both shook their heads, though the question had been directed at her only. “Ok then. I’ll go and get Maika’s overnight bag ready. Timmy go get dressed.”

Timmy hastened to the wardrobe where he had watched Fraya had put away his clothes the night before and began looking for something to wear. He had done so without hesitation or question and this irritated her. She was annoyed at Armie for his patriarchal attitude and at Timmy for being clearly all too willing to obey.

“Please!” Fraya corrected him in the same way she corrected Maika when she forgot to use the ‘magic’ word.

Armie stopped in his tracks though he didn’t turn to face her. His shoulders stiffened and widened and his spine lengthened as he straightened his back; she had hit a nerve.

“What?” he asked, his back still turned.

“He’s not a dog. We don’t respond to orders in this house. You should ask him nicely.”

She knew this would go one of two ways. Armie would either laugh it off and say something funny with a good dose of sarcasm thrown in or they would have a fight. If she was honest she wanted the fight. She didn’t know why exactly, other than she had a ball of angry energy inside her and she needed to release it. She held her breath in anticipation for Armie's response and was forced to release it in a gust of hot air when he did neither.

“Please.” he said simply and walked away, heading up to Maika’s room to get her packed for her sleepover. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Timmy said to her when she came to join him in the bedroom. “I hadn’t taken it as an order.”

“Except it was one.” she answered, looking over the clothes he had laid out for himself. She picked up the basic black hoodie he had taken out and folded it before putting it back in the wardrobe. She rummaged through the pile of sweaters and pulled out an oversized black and gray flecked wool knit and showed it to him. Timmy shrugged his acceptance and she threw it on the bed. 

“Is it any different than what you did just now?” he questioned tentatively, looking at her as he pulled his black jeans on and did up the zipper.

“What do you mean?” she asked, sinking down on the bed, resting her elbows on her knees so she could press the heels of her palms into her eye sockets in an attempt to stop another surge of pain from moving from the back of her skull to the front.

Timmy quickly tugged a clean white t-shirt and the sweater Fraya had selected for him over his head before coming to stand between her knees. He took her hands from her face and placed them on his hips and closed the gap between them, pressing his thighs to the mattress so she could rest her forehead on his stomach allowing him to massage the base of her neck and her shoulders freely. She sighed and fisted her hands into his sweater.

“You decided you didn’t want me wearing the hoodie and just switched it out, no questions asked.” Timmy felt Fraya tense momentarily under his fingers but she relaxed again quickly. He could tell she understood his point even if she didn’t like the comparison.

“Yeah well… It’s cute and endearing when I do it. It’s obnoxious when Gigantor does it.” she said, sounding petulant and cranky. The moniker made Timmy laugh.

“Why are you so mad this morning. What’s going on?” Timmy could tell it was more than a headache. There was a lingering feeling of resentment in her voice that was just present enough to tickle his senses. 

“I can’t shake this headache and it’s getting to me that’s all. And I don’t like that Armie is making you go to June’s tonight. I thought we decided you were done with that life. I shouldn't have been a bitch though. I’ll apologize.” 

Timmy pushed her away from him gently and crouched down so they were eye to eye. Fraya frowned at the sudden requirement on her muscles to hold her head up as well as the loss of comfort from having been cuddled against Timmy's body. 

“We didn’t decide. YOU decided.” he pointed out again and she huffed. “Please don’t tell me not to go. You know if you ask me to i’ll stay but please don’t ask me to. I don’t want to have to choose between you and Armie. I don’t mind going with him on the appointment, honestly. It’s just a job. This is the first time he’s asked me to come along and I want too. I want to contribute. I want to work with you. For you. Whatever. I’ll do whatever you guys want me to do if it means I can keep living with you.”

He had said that last part in almost a whisper, as though he had only meant to think it not say it out loud. The surprise at this admission momentarily blocked the pain in her head.

“What makes you think we would allow you to leave us? You’re a prisoner here you know.” she whispered back and this made him laugh even though she had said it with a straight face. “Seriously Timmy, I wouldn’t let you leave even if you wanted to, so you don’t have to do this. There are other things we can find for you to do that don’t involve selling yourself to the highest bidder.”

“You guys do it.” he pointed out. He had taken her hands in his and they felt warm on her cold sink. She was freezing.

“That’s different.” she tried to explain but realized there was no way for her to do so without going into who or what they were and she still wasn’t ready.

“Is it?” he asked and she just shrugged. She had no answer. “Can I go? Please?” he petitioned. “I promise you if it’s too much i’ll get out of there. But I can do this, I know I can.” Finally, she nodded and he sighed with relief. “Thank you.” he said, kissing her forehead. 

Armie came down roughly 10 minutes later, carrying Maika’s little suitcase in one hand and the little girl in the other. He left the suitcase at the foot of the stairs and came to drop Maika next to Fraya on the bed so he could get dressed as well. Without being prompted, Timmy took her by the hand and escorted her to the living room so Fraya could be alone with her brother. 

Armie pulled out a gray suit and black dress shirt from his wardrobe and hung them from a hook on the side. He was deliberately staying silent. Fraya watched him pull on the perfectly tailored pants and do the zipper before slipping his toned arms into the sleeves of his crisp shirt. Fraya stood then and closed the gap between them so she could do up his buttons. He waited patiently as she did so and once she was done he tucked the bottom of the shirt into his pants before doing up the button and slipping a belt through the loops. He pushed his wrists toward her, one at a time, so she could do up the small buttons on his sleeves and then he put on the suit jacket. He took out a tie from the top drawer of a commode next to the wardrobes and showed it to her. She shook her head no and he put it away. He took his gold watch from the top of the commode, the watch that had once belonged to their father, and again he stretched his wrist toward Fraya so she could fasten the clasp. He took a pair of black socks out of a different drawer in the commode and went to sit on the bed so he could put them on his feet. When he was done he sighed and looked up at Fraya.

“Come here.” he beckoned making sure to add: “Please.”

She did as she was asked and came to stand between his knees the way Timmy had stood between hers earlier. Armie looked up at her, his blue eyes flecked with a mix of resentment and contrition. He waited.

“I was being a bitch. I’m sorry.” she said. Armie smiled softly, mouth partly open, upper lip pulling up slightly to reveal pointy incisors that Fraya loved. He nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing. “I’m scared he’s going to relapse.” she continued and Armie nodded again, understanding this fear, and took one of her hands in his in an attempt to reassure. He continued to wait. “And I don’t like those women, you know they’re more than fucking handsy once they start.” she finally blurted adding: “Which means inevitably I’m going to have come after them and tear them apart.” 

“And there it is.” he said, unable to contain a laugh. He stood so he could wrap her in a hug, his large body enveloping her tightly. “You’re jealous. It would be a lot easier if you just said these things to begin with you know. I told you I'll take care of him. Nobody will touch him unless he says he wants them too. But I can’t help him wanting them too, though. Which he might.”

“Like you want them too?” she pushed, emphasizing the word you, jealousy for both her boys fully on display now.

“Like I NEED them too.” he corrected, before dropping a kiss on her nose. “It’s different for me and you know it.” 

“Fine!” she finally caved, shaking her head to show her maintained displeasure. “But i’m serious, if he comes home with one hair out of place, I will hunt them down and make you watch while I disembowel them.” 

“Mm. I love it when you talk dirty.” he growled low in his throat, mouth in her hair next to her ear. Despite herself Fraya shivered and she knew he noticed it when she felt him smile against her temple.

‘Idiot’ she thought to herself but couldn’t help but smile into his chest, an overwhelming feeling of love flooding her entire being. They hugged a while longer, the weight of him around her seeming to keep the pain in her head at bay. When it was time to go he began to pull away and she stopped him by pulling on the lapels of his suit jacket.

“Not yet.” she said, pulling herself into him more so than him into her and Armie chuckled. 

Bringing a hand to her chin he tilted her head back as far as it would go so he could easily kiss her despite their height difference. He let her set the pace, which was much more demanding than he had anticipated and it rendered him a little breathless. 

As usual, Armie was carrying Maika in his arms as they made their way to the reception area, Timmy at his side carrying her overnight bag. They stopped at the door so Fraya could kiss the little girl goodbye. Again a wave of pain, this time so violent she had to hold on to Armie not to fall over, took her breath away. It lasted five seconds or so and then receded. 

“Aya?” Maika worried, her little hand cupping Fraya’s cheek as she peered into her face with concern.

“Ca va mon ange.” she tried to reassure, wincing at the residual ache behind her eye. _‘I’m ok angel.’_

Maika closed her eyes, pressing her hand harder against Fraya’s cheek and began to murmur words nobody understood. Armie kept as imobile as possible so as not to break the bond between the two girls and Timmy watched from the sideline. An electricity filled stillness draped over the four of them and Timmy could have sworn Maika was glowing as though sunlight was seeping through her skin. It had lasted only a second or two and neither Armie or Fraya seemed to notice it. Soon Fraya sighed with relief, the pain now gone.

“Je ne suis pas capable de complètement faire disparaître le méchant.’’ Maika said, brow furrowed with consternation. _‘I can’t completely get rid of the badness.’_

‘’Bien sur que tu as été capable. Je vais bien maintenant. Merci mon amour.’’ Fraya soothed, turning her head to kiss the palm of the little hand. _‘Of course you were able too. I’m ok now. Thank you my love.’_

‘’Ok seriously Aya what’s going on?’’ Armie interjected, concerned now, but Fraya dismissed him with a wave of her hand, insisting it was just a tenacious headache from the red wine she and Timmy had drank last night. 

‘’You know how badly I react to the sulphites. I should have asked for a different bottle. It’s fine, really.’’

Though he looked skeptical, Armie allowed Fraya to convince him to leave so Maika wouldn’t be late for her dance class and then her party. She kissed all of them on the cheek, warned Armie one last time to make sure Timmy came home unharmed and ushered them out the door, locking it before heading back to the main space.

She did feel better now that Maika had helped push back the badness as she called it. She was definitely not hungover and she took a moment to process this information. There had been no sulphites in that bottle she had made sure to ask the waiter at the restaurant. She was surprised Timmy hadn’t given her away. This could only mean that the evil inside her was taking claim.

‘’Fuck.’’ she said out loud and it echoed around her. Tears were burning her eyes and she brushed them away angrily. ‘’Get a grip Fraya. You knew this was coming.’’ 

And with that she put the situation out of mind, storing it away in a recess so far she would have to really go looking for it to think about it. She was good at that. Compartmentalizing. A quote from the movie Gone with the Wind rang in her ears and she smiled. ‘I'll think about that tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day.’ she didn’t know how many tomorrows she would have left though which was the problem.

A few hours later, while she was laying in bed reading, empty bottles of Spasm sitting expectantly on the nightstand waiting for her to find the motivation to fill them, her phone vibrated against her hip. She finished reading her page and then looked at her phone, knowing before she did so that it was a text from Armie, checking up on her.

There was a minute or so with nothing, not even any dots on the screen indicating that Armie was typing and then her phone buzzed again as an indistinct thumbnail image appeared under Armie’s last text. She tapped it with her thumb and suddenly her screen was filled with a shirtless picture of Harry Styles. Fraya couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> currently working on Chapter 8 if you have any suggestions :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Timmy come home to find Fraya is a bad state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so fluffy after all. I hope you still like it.
> 
> I edited the chapter because I realized I had rushed through the ending and it was poorly written. sorry about that.

It was a little past four pm when Armie and Timmy returned home, laughing together over something Timmy had said. Armie had allowed him to take full part in the exchange and he was still riding the adrenaline high. The drop had been low risk given that the payment for the Carracci had been made that morning via deposit into an untraceable Cayman account meaning that no money would be exchanged at the drop site. Figuring there would be little risk for Timmy to participate, Armie had decided to not make him wait in the car.

After a few instructions, that had mostly consisted of Timmy keeping his mouth shut and running if things got out of hand they headed to the handoff which went seamless. Tim was nervous but he had held it together. The whole thing had taken less than five minutes. The buyer had come alone, and hadn’t even bothered to open the document tube that contained the original Carracci print stating simply that he knew where to find Armie if need be.

Timmy had bounced in his seat with excitement the entire way home a huge smile on his pretty face. Armie looked over at him periodically, pride clear in his blue eyes, matching Timmy with a wide grin. His elation was contagious and Armie had to remind himself to focus on the road instead of the boy next to him.

At a stop light a few blocks from home, Armie had texted Fraya to warn her of their imminent arrival; just in case she was still busy collecting Spasm. Although he was of the opinion they needed to come clean with Timmy sooner rather than later, he knew she wouldn’t appreciate being found mid act and he didn’t want to upset her more so than she had been that morning. She wasn’t shy when it came to these things but when it came to Timmy she had a tendency of being overprotective. She hadn’t answered him.

“AYA WE’RE HOME!” he screamed from the reception for good measure, in case she hadn’t seen the text. Carrying into the kitchen the bags of groceries they had picked up, he looked around but she was nowhere to be seen. “Aya?”

“Where is she?” Timmy asked, looking around for her as well. “Shower?” he supposed, heading in that direction to use the water closet.

“The water isn’t run--...” Armie began from inside the refrigerator, his sentence cut short at the sound of Timmy bellowing his name in sheer panic. 

His head snapped up and for a moment he couldn’t find Timmy either but then he saw his mop of brown curls as he bent down near the coffee table in the living room area. In a matter of seconds Armie was standing over an unconscious Fraya who was facedown on the rug, an open vial just out of reach on her open hand. They hadn’t seen her when they came in because the large recliner partially blocked the view of the living room from that angle. She was naked from the waist down, Armie’s shirt not hiding much of her and she had a bloody nose. Timmy was frantically brushing her hair out of her face which was smearing the bright red liquid over her cheek in the process. He was calling out her name, alarm making his voice a few octaves higher.

“Move.” Armie said but didn’t wait, pushing Timmy out of the way unceremoniously, causing him to teeter backward, the table breaking his fall. “Go get a towel and wet it with water from the fridge. Quickly.” he ordered and Timmy rushed off.

Delicately Armie rolled Fraya over and lifted her back off of the ground so he could slip a knee under her. Holding her head up in the crook of his left elbow he gently tapped her cheek with his right hand, trying to rouse her. She was breathing evenly and showed no signs of distress other than a bloody nose which reassured him. 

“Here.” Timmy said, pushing a cold wet towel toward Armie’s face. “I should call 911. Where’s your phone? I don’t have a phone. I really have to get a phone.” There was a touch of hysteria now added to the panic.

“NO!” Armie barked. “Don’t. My phone is on the kitchen island, bring it here.” Timmy did as he was told; if he questioned not calling for an ambulance he didn’t say anything. “Go into the contacts and find the one that’s called Midnight. Dial it and then put it on speakerphone.”

Timmy did as instructed, finding the contact easily and stretching the phone toward Armie as it rang. They both waited impatiently as it rang, 3, 4, 5 times with no answer.

“Hang up. Dial again.” Armie ordered while gently cleaning the blood from Fraya’s nose and periodically wiping cold sweat from her brow. “Again.” he instructed when there was no answer the second time. Finally the line was answered though no one spoke. “It’s Armie. We need a visit. Now. doesn’t matter the cost.”

“What’s the damage? Natural or supernatural?” the voice on the other end inquired calmly. Timmy couldn’t tell if it was male or female though that was of no importance. Had they asked if the damage was supernatural?

“It’s for Fraya.” Armie offered, eyes never leaving her face, focusing on her breathing to make sure it remained even.

“Where?”

“The warehouse.”

“I can be there in 20 minutes. 5000$ for the visit. Plus the cost of the new meds.”

“Make it here in ten and I'll double it.”

Once the call had disconnected Timmy put the phone in his pocket and waited for further instruction though none came. He felt powerless and useless as he watched Armie minister to Fraya who lay unconscious in his arms. 

All too often he had walked into a room at June’s to find some poor girl face down on the floor, naked, beaten and violated into unconsciousness and immediately his mind had gone there upon seeing Fraya half naked and bloody and as the minutes ticked by without a change in her condition, he was unable to control a rage filled fear so violent he saw red momentarily. 

“TIMOTHEE!” Armie hollered, which snapped him out of his state. 

The use of the name he no longer thought of as his own sounded foreign coming from Armie and he didn’t like it. He wasn’t Timothee anymore. Timothee no longer existed. He was Timmy and only Timmy. He had been born the day he had taken his first dose and locked eyes with Fraya who along with Armie had become his parents, his siblings, his friends, his everything. 

“You good?” Armie pressed and Timmy nodded. “Good. Cause I can’t take care of you and take care of her at the same time. I need you to hold it together right now.”

Again Timmy nodded. He could hold it together. He could be strong for Armie. What he couldn’t do is stop his mind from going a mile a minute as he tried to reason out what could have happened. Had she had a client over here? That didn’t seem likely. She wouldn’t risk exposing Maika to something like that. Had someone broken in and tried to attack her? Nothing was out of place or appeared to be stolen. Had they come for Maika all the way from Ireland? How would they even know where to find her? Fraya had been vague about their lifestyle but he had seen enough today to know they were well protected, so probably not. His mind was reeling with suppostions and wild theories when he remembered suddenly that Midnight, whoever that was, had said something about new meds. Was she sick? Somehow that prospect was even more frightening than the alternatives.

Twelve excruciatingly long minutes after Armie had made the call to Midnight, the doorbell rang and Timmy ran to get it. The man that strode in was carrying a medical bag in one hand and a mini cooler in the other. He was fairly tall and balding, a crown of wild gray hair mussed by the winter winds haloing the back of his head while his face was covered with an equally gray but well trimmed beard. He had olive skin and though he looked kindly enough, he had dark circles under his eyes that gave the impression that he hadn’t slept in months.

“Where is she?” he had asked, not bothering to take off his boots or his coat as he made his way into the warehouse without waiting for an answer, gray slush leaving puddles on the epoxy covered concrete floors. 

They found Armie still holding Fraya in his arms, whispering to her softly in russian and in french, begging her to hold on, to not leave him because he loved her and he wouldn’t survive without her.

“I’m here Bellissima.” the man said to Fraya in an italian accent despite her being unresponsive. He kneeled close to her and gave her a quick once over, touching her forehead and lifting her eyelids to make her sure pupils weren’t dilated. “Just a quick injection and you will come back to us, yes?”

Timmy watched as the man rummaged through his medical back and pulled out a syringe and clear glass vial. 

“What are you giving her?” he asked, concerned not only because something was wrong with Fraya but also because Armie didn’t seem to be worried about what this doctor was injecting her with after barely examining her.

“Adrenaline.” the man answered, shaking the vial. “Just a little to bring her back.” 

He filled the barrel with a few CCs of the liquid and after disinfecting a small patch of skin on the thick of her thigh he pushed the needle into her muscle and quickly pushed down the plunger.. Fraya’s eyes flew open and she jolted in Armie’s arms, wide mouth open as she took a huge intake of air and coughed it out. 

“Very good. Very good.” The doctor approved patting her thigh gently. “Take a few moments to catch your breath while I draw some blood.”

Fraya leaned back into Armie’s arms and turned to look at him. ‘Sorry’ she mouthed silently and he nodded, relief clear in his features. The doctor busied himself with the preparation for the blood draw, taking out a small glass dish from the bag, another small glass vial that was sealed with a dropper and a finger prick needle. Again he cleaned Fraya’s skin with an alcohol wipe and adjusting the dial on the finger pricker to a medium setting, he pressed it against her fingertip and pressed the button. There was a quick snapping sound as the needle launched and Fraya winced when it pierced her skin.

The doctor discarded the pricker and pressed Fraya’s finger over the dish. Timmy starred as little drops of bright red blood dripped onto the glass, counting them as they fell; ten in total. When he was done, the doctor released her finger and instructed her to apply pressure. Armie was quick to take hold of her hand and bring her finger to his mouth, licking off the blood that had continued to drip before closing his lips on it just under the first knuckle. Gently he clamped his teeth on her nail and the soft pad, hard enough to apply pressure but not enough to hurt, and he pushed his tongue onto the tip to cover the pin hole that was still leaking. He kept her finger in his mouth longer than it took for her blood to coagulate but eventually released her, pulling her hand so her finger popped out of his mouth with a wet sound and he kissed the slick fingertip before letting go.

Timmy stood on the sideline and watched. He was struggling to consolidate what he was feeling with what he was seeing. There was relief that Fraya was awake, obviously, and happiness that she didn't seem to be that much worse for wear. There was distrust for the man that didn’t look like any doctor he had ever been too and there was anger toward Armie for just letting him do whatever to Fraya without question. And then there was disgust. Disgust with himself for the thoughts that had crept into his brain as he watched Armie take Fraya’s finger into his mouth. His jeans had immediately grown tight as he watched Armie’s tongue dart out to lap at the blood dripping from Fraya’s fingertip. His breath had shallowed as he watched Armie suck on Fraya’s finger, his cheeks hollowing and lips puckered. He was standing on the other side of the sofa giving him an unobstructed view of Fraya leaning back into Armie, nobody but him caring that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. From where he stood he had a full view of her inner thigh, which made his mouth water. He was disgusting.

Fisting the cushions he forced himself to look away and focused instead on what the doctor was doing. He watched as the man deposited the glass receptacle with Fraya’s blood on the coffee table and dropped three large droplets of a cloudy watery substance from the bottle with the dropper. There was an immediate reaction. The blood bubbled and then crackled as moisture seemed to evaporate from it. Within a few seconds it had dried in the bottom of the dish, turning almost black in the process. The doctor tisked as he shook his head.

“This is not good Bellissima. Not at all. It's claws are very deep inside you now. Have you been taking the anti-virals?” 

“Yes but they’ve been less effective lately. I‘ve been getting headaches.” Fraya had hesitated to share that today’s headache hadn’t been a new occurrence, knowing Armie would balk at this information. Thankfully she simply felt him tense under her but he had said nothing. She knew she was going to hear about it later though.

“And nosebleeds I see.” the doctor added, reaching a hand to brush some crusted dried blood from her cheek. “I will give you a quick fix anti-viral boost tonight and another will be needed for the next five days. It needs to be administered intravenously, do you know how to do that?” 

“No. But Timmy can do it for me. Right Tim?” Fraya had asked, looking up at him from the floor, smiling softly. 

“Uhhhh, yeah sure. I've never done it to someone else but yeah… I can.” How could she say such things and there never be any judgement in her voice or in the way she looked at him he wondered.

“Perfecto. I will be back in one week to see how you are. In the meantime mi amor, you need to feed. You are too pale. I know you think it is counterintuitive to do so but it satiates the darkness inside when you do. Even if for a little while. This will give you more time.”

“Ok. I will. I promise.”

“Good girl.” 

The doctor gave Fraya her injection and released the rubber tie from her arm once he was done. He took the extra medication vials from the cooler and handed them to Timmy along with some clean needles.

“Young man, this medication needs to be refrigerated. Give here 15 ccs every twenty-four hours for five days starting tomorrow morning.” he instructed and Timmy took mental note. “You should feel like yourself again in a few minutes Bella. I will see you soon.” he said, turning back to Fraya as he picked up his belongings.

Armie helped Fraya get to her feet and without needing to be asked, Timmy was at her side to take his place as Armie walked the doctor to the door. They sat on the couch together and she rested her back against the cool leather. She looked at Timmy and seeing the strained look on his face she reached out to brush her thumb over his left eyebrow, her palm warmed by adrenaline cupping his cheek.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m ok now. Really.” she tried to reassure him.

“What happened? Are you sick? I mean obviously you’re sick but what’s wrong with you? Is it HIV?” he questioned, his brow furrowed despite Fraya’s repeated attempts to smooth it out. 

“Most people think cancer first but no.. to either.” She said, trying not to laugh. 

“I’m sorry. I…” he stuttered, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a fair question considering what we do and who we are.”

She didn’t have time to answer, interrupted by Armie who had come barreling back, his strides so determined that one second he was just in from the reception and the next he was towering over them, shoulders squared and arms flailing angrily. 

“WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?” he thundered so loudly at her that it made Timmy recoil into the back of the couch. Instinctively she leaned toward him protectively as Armie continued to yell. “YOU HAVEN’T BEEN TAKING THE FUCKING MEDS FRAYA?”

“I HAVE! They just haven’t been working all that much lately.”

“AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO SAY ANYTHING? WE HAVE TO COME HOME AND FIND YOU PASSED OUT ON THE CARPET, HALF NAKED, ASS UP IN THE AIR, YOUR FACE BLOODY LIKE IT’S SOME SORT OF CRIME SCENE? HOW LONG FRAYA. HOW FUCKING LONG HAVE THE MEDS STOPPED WORKING?” Armie was huffing rapidly, nostril flared, face red and the vein on his forehead ready to explode. He was fisting his hands at his sides now, knuckle bright white under the strain.

“A while Armie. Just a while. It was gradual.” she shot back, calmly. “And stop screaming at me for God’s sake. You’re scaring Timmy.”

“Timmy…. Jesus Christ Fraya he's a grown ass man. Stop protecting him. I’m scaring Timmy!?! what the fuck.” Exasperation had mingled with his anger now but at least he had stopped screaming. “Is that really what you’re concerned about right now? Timmy? Cause Timmy has to fucking shoot you up like a god damned junky for the next five days cause you didn’t think it was pertinent to let me know how bad things were. And you think I'm scaring him. Fuck, Fraya!”

“I told you yesterday it had been a while since I… ate.” Fraya had altered her words so as not to alarm Timmy.

“Yeah well if you weren’t so damn picky about…  **_what you eat_ ** ... it wouldn’t be so fucking hard.” Fraya knew it had taken a lot of self-control for him to maintain the charade in front of Timmy and not say ‘ **_who you feed off of_ ** ’ and she was grateful. Whether he realized it or not, he protected Timmy as well.

“I know!” she agreed, standing up to close the gap between them. “I know and I’m sorry. But I’m ok for now, see?” She took his hand and placed it on her sternum so he could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat and the steadiness of her breath. His palm was so large it took up most of the span of her upper chest. “We can take care of it tomorrow ok? I’m fine now, I promise. The injection worked. I’m ok.”

Tentatively Fraya wrapped her arms around his waist and pushed herself into him until he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her tightly. 

“I was so fucking scared.” he whispered in her hair, a tremor to his voice that made her throat tighten. “I can’t lose you Aya. I won’t survive it.” 

“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still here.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although Fraya had tried to dissuade him, Armie had rescheduled the book club ladies, promising them a Timmy sized surprise for their understanding. Fraya had overheard the conversation but had refrained from commenting. 

“It’s not that I think you aren’t ok.” Armie had said when she had told him he didn’t have to cancel. “I’m just going to go to June’s for a few hours and see if I can find you someone asap. Doctor’s orders. Besides, I wanna coddle you a bit ok. I’m allowed.” 

Once everyone had settled, Armie ran a bath for Fraya, dropping some epsom salts in the water as well as some lavender oil, insisting she relax and rest. Timmy had made a point of looking away as she stripped off the bloody t-shirt and climbed into the open view tub. He was still upset at himself for what had happened earlier and for the first time since he’d been living at the warehouse, he wished there were some walls to hide behind. Armie noticed the agitation on his face and pulled him toward the bedroom area where the large wardrobes provided some cover so they wouldn’t disrupt Fraya.

“Hey. What’s going on?” Armie asked Timmy who simply shrugged dismissively in response. “I thought I was going to lose you too earlier. Where’d you go? I called your name a bunch of times but It’s like you couldn’t hear me.”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. I was just so scared and angry and I saw red. It happens sometimes. I don’t even remember it honestly.” Timmy was fidgeting, staring at the floor as he answered, his mouth twisting into various grimaces as he tried to explain what had happened. 

“Kind of like what happened at June’s the night I found you?” Armie inquired and Timmy’s mind reeled.

They had never talked about that night. Not once. Timmy had often wondered how he had found himself at the warehouse living with Armie and Fraya and the truth was he didn’t care. The last thing he remembered was looking to find someone who would pay him enough money to get a few grams of meth or heroin or anything that would numb him again, no matter what he had to let them do to him to get it. He vaguely remembered a man approaching him and offering him 50 bucks to watch his buddies fuck him and the next thing he remembered was starring into Fraya’s eyes after she had given him his first dose. 

Sometimes he wondered why they had taken him in and when they would want him to leave but he had never asked, worried they would suddenly realize how long he had been there and ask him to go. As he got better and the days turned to weeks without them making go, he had pushed the thoughts aside completely, telling himself he would cross that bridge when he got to it. When Fraya had told him that morning that not only didn’t she want him to leave but she wouldn’t allow it, he had been relieved rather than concerned. His heart had swelled with love and thanks upon hearing her say those words; so finding her on the floor less than 8 hrs later he had lost control.

“I don’t remember that night either. It’s like everything goes red and I stop to exist. It’s like something takes over me. I’m so sorry Armie, you needed me to keep it together and I let you down. I could feel how worried you were and I was worried too and I guess I just had a panic attack or something. I fucked up. I’m sorry.” There was a wobble in his voice and he bit his bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

“You don’t need to apologize, you didn’t let me down. I was just worried. I almost lost Fraya this afternoon. I don’t think I could handle it if something happened to you too. Are you sure you’re ok? A lot of shit went down today.”

Armie had closed the distance between them and cupped Timmy’s face in his left palm smoothing a thumb over his brow in the same way Fraya had done earlier. Timmy nodded and leaned into Armie’s hand, the warmth of his skin raising gooseflesh on the back of his neck. Armie kept his hand there, thumb caressing gently and sending shivers down Timmy’s spine. His breathing became more rapid and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, pressing his check harder into Armie’s hand.

“Do you need a dose?” he asked him and Timmy groaned, head thrown back as he leaned backwards and out of Armie’s reach.

“Why are you guys always asking me that?” he whined in frustration which took Armie off guard.

“Hey, come back here.” he said, grabbing Timmy and steadying him. “What do you mean? I just thought it would level you out if you’re feeling anxious. What’s wrong?”

“Anytime I show any sign of interest or have a physical reaction when one of you touches me, you inevitably give me a dose. Which does  **_absolutely nothing_ ** for a fucking hard on, FYI!” Timmy had answered spontaneously, realizing what he was saying after the words had come out of his mouth. ‘Shit.’ he thought and steeled himself for Armie’s reaction.

“I’m aware of that.” Armie chuckled. “The orgasm you get from Spasm is physiological not physical.” He let go of Timmy and took a deep breath, pushing his hands into his pocket. “I’m sorry if we’ve been misreading the situation. If you feel like you don’t need the Spasm anymore you can stop taking it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know that’s not what you meant.” Armie confirmed. There was a brief pause, during which time he looked to be weighing the pros and cons of a mental list and then he proposed something that sent Timmy’s heart racing again. “Listen, let’s make a deal going forward. If you want a dose, tell us you want a dose and if you wanna be touched, tell us you wanna be touched.”

“I wanna be touched.” The words had sprinted out of Timmy’s mouth at rocket speed, before Armie had even fully exhaled after his sentence.

Armie smirked but he had the decency to contain a laugh. It didn’t take long for his eyes to darken however as he bit his bottom lip, mirroring Timmy who had done the same at the prospect of what he hoped was about to happen, bouncing unconsciously on the balls of his feet, his cheeks gone pink with desire.

“Come here.” Armie requested, his voice commanding and sultry at the same time which sent a jolt of electricity straight to Timmy’s groin.

Armie looked down at Timmy, hands still deep in his pockets and waited for him to close the small divide between their bodies. Timmy took a step forward and stopped just inches from Armie’s large frame, his entire body vibrating with expectation and need. He felt and looked small next to him. This both excited him and scared him a little; the fear, a muscle memory response to too many abusive nights at June’s. 

Timmy swallowed hard and looked up slowly through fluttering dark lashes, taking the time to appreciate the way Arrmie’s adam’s apple strained against the collar of his shirt as he too swallowed hard. The green of his eyes almost disappeared behind blown pupils, he smiled invitingly, proud of the way he had caused Armie’s breath to catch in his throat. 

Timmy looked almost feminine in the way his lips parted and his alabaster skin tinted, a forecasting of what one could expect if only they reached out and touched. Armie smiled back at Timmy knowingly, clearly aware of the effect he was having on him and enjoyed the torture of making him wait. Finally, he took a hand out of his pocket and brought it to the back of Timmy’s long neck so he could pull him even closer. 

Timmy held his breath as he waited for the kiss he now knew was coming, palms tingling and tummy filling with butterflies at the thought of it alone. The first time Armie’s lips touched his it was soft and it drew out the breath he had been holding in. The second time, Armie’s tongue lapped at his bottom lip and Timmy melted into him. 

Kissing Armie didn’t have the fierce gruff urgency he had thought it would. Instead, it was languid and sensual, almost painfully so, Armie’s tongue moving like honey straight from the comb, thick, slow and sweet, against his. 

Armie’s grip tightened against the back of his neck, pulling him even closer, fingers digging just enough to hurt delectably and Timmy moaned. He felt Armie smile against his lips and moaned again, hips pushing into Armie’s front unconsciously, looking for friction of any kind. He had been hard since before Armie had even kissed him.

Armie pushed him against one of the wardrobes, pressing his own erection into Timmy's belly, as he slowly pulled the boy's t-shirt and sweater over his head. He slid his free hand from the top of Timmy’s shoulder down to the rise of his jeans at an excruciating crawl, enjoying the feel of all the little goosebumps that prickled up on his skin, creating a map to the intended destination. He kept his other hand on the back of Timmy’s neck, his lips against his temple, kissing softly at his hairline, nose buried in his soft curly locks.

Timmy gasped, eyes wide with exhilaration, when Armie undid the button of his jeans with one hand and pulled the zipper down, still moving slowly as he slipped long fingers into Timmy’s boxer.

Timmy fisted his hands into the fabric of Armie’s black dress shirt, unable to do anything but feel the weight of Armie’s body against him, his own body too paralyzed by sensation for it to respond to the orders his brain was sending. He wanted to rip the fucking shirt of the man’s back and push him over to the bed so he could climb all over him and explore the many vast planes and ridges his body promised but Timmy was unable to do any of it, his muscles refusing to cooperate.

“Fuck.” Timmy groaned eyes closed as he let his head hit the wardrobe door with a thud, Armie’s hand having started to move slowly the length of him.

It took just a few strokes and suddenly Timmy was spilling all over Armie’s hand and on the inside of his boxers. He groaned loudly as it happened, muscles spasming and his legs threatening to give out. Armie held him upright until his ragged breath had calmed and he could hold his weight.

“Better now?” Armie asked with a satisfied grin once Timmy had rested his forehead against his large chest and sighed contentedly, so thankful to have finally had a real orgasm that he didn’t even feel a little bit embarrassed by how quickly it had happened. Timmy nodded, forehead gliding over soft cotton as he did so. 

Despite his limbs feeling heavy, Timmy raised his hands to the buttons of Armie’s shirt and began to undo them, starting randomly in the middle. Armie took his hands in his and stopped him.

“What about you?” Timmy asked, confused. He could feel that Armie was still hard against him.

“Later.” Armie answered, lips against his temple again and breath warm against his cheek. Timmy was grateful for the raincheck as he didn’t think he would have the energy to return the favour just yet, though he would have certainly tried. He didn’t understand how something that happened so quickly could drain him so completely.

“What are you guys doing over there?” Fraya called from the other side of the warehouse, the sounds of water sloshing in the bath.

“Relieving some tension.” Armie answered, hands caressing Timmy’s sides, chin now resting on the top of the boy’s head.

“Could you do that over here so I can watch?” she fired back, laughing. This sent a thrill through Timmy's body and had he not been so spent it would have made him hard again. He couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not but he immediately hoped she was, which sent a shiver from his toes to the tip of his nose. Armie noticed and chuckled.

“This is going to be fun.” he said before leaning in to kiss Timmy again.


	9. chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Timmy become closer as Fraya tries to distance herself. a bit of fluff and domesticity thrown in for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @lostcol who has taken so much time to talk this through with me and then edited this chapter. I really appreciate you and your time :) xo

Fraya had emerged from her bath feeling refreshed but sore and a little tired. The adrenaline had worn off and her body was feeling the aftermath of the incident. True to his word, Armie coddled her to the point of annoyance, refusing to let her do anything for herself other than getting dressed in the clothes he had taken out for her; her usual boy shorts and one of his t-shirts, an old gray cotton one he knew she particularly liked because it was worn soft and smelled like him.

She was instructed to lay on the couch while the boys busied themselves with cleaning up after Fraya’s accident and the doctor's visit, Timmy tasked with scrubbing the bloodstains on the carpet while Armie spot-mopped the floor.

They ordered pizza for dinner, and Armie started putting together a Caesar salad to have as a side while Timmy set the table. A new dynamic had settled between the two of them, and Fraya noticed immediately. This didn’t surprise her. 

She had known that the moment either of them inevitably gave in to Timmy's obvious needs, this would happen. It was impossible for it not to. He had been coasting on Spasm for so long that the second his body experienced a physical connection in addition to the physiological one caused by the drug, he would be done for, convinced that what he was feeling was love. This made her uneasy.

She knew deep down that they needed him to love them. That in fact, they needed him to love them so utterly, he would be willing to do the inconceivable for them. But that part of the equation had always left a feeling of revulsion deep in her belly, like the beginnings of nausea, so she was reluctant to allow it to happen. She had anticipated that eventually, Armie would be the one to take that step when he felt it became necessary. Clearly the afternoon’s event had made it so. What did surprise her however, what that Armie seemed to be somewhat smitten himself.

It was nothing flagrant. To anyone looking in, Armie’s behavior would probably look no different than it normally did. He was always charming and flirtatious. But there had been a subtle change in the way he interacted with Timmy, a new playfulness that was delicate and attentive, similar to how he acted with Fraya. He touched more frequently and reciprocated more easily. 

As for Timmy, he was reacting predictably. While he had always been affectionate, he seemed to be hanging off of Armie’s words more desperately and was more easily amused by the things he said. And while he had a tendency to stick close to Fraya normally, having spent the bulk of his time at the warehouse with her, he had been trailing behind Armie all afternoon. 

They ate quietly, the silence comfortable. Armie and Fraya watched, amused, as Timmy picked all the toppings off of his pizza slices except for the cheese, scrunching his nose up at the green peppers and mushrooms in the same way Maika would have; a faint reminder that for all he had been through, he was still quite young. Fraya noticed when Timmy and Armie exchanged heavy glances and hid knowing smiles in their glasses of cola but said nothing, a mild knot in her stomach distracting her momentarily. She couldn’t pinpoint the source of the unease.  


Once dinner was over, Fraya was redirected to the couch after her offer to help clear the table was refused. She read a few pages of her book but found it difficult to concentrate, her attention constantly drawn to the sounds of hushed voices and giggling coming from the kitchen. Fraya peered over the back of the couch, feeling wrong for spying but doing so regardless. Timmy was sitting cross legged on the kitchen island with a dish towel in hand, waiting for Armie to wash the items that couldn’t be placed in the dishwasher, so he could dry them. He was smiling at him sheepishly, a graceful hand gently stroking Armie’s upper arm and squeezing his bicep with splayed fingered before resuming an upward glide over his collarbone and his pectorals, fingers breaching the front placket of his shirt between two buttons just long enough to feel his skin and the soft hair on his chest before backtracking and retracing his path to his elbow. 

Armie rinsed the large wooden salad bowl and shook off the excess water, his muscles tightening visibly under Timmy’s fingers as he did so. Timmy whispered something softly and then bit his bottom lip, a pink flush quickly staining his otherwise pale cheek. Whatever Timmy had said made Armie laugh and he winked, nudging Timmy's knee with his elbow. When he handed Timmy the bowl, Armie leaned in more than was necessary and kissed a spot under Timmy's jaw, which made him go still. 

Feeling as though she was invading a moment of privacy, Fraya scooched back down on the couch and tried to read again, unsuccessfully. Eventually she heard the water turn off and the cupboard doors open and close as the items were probably being put away. She heard the beeping sounds of the dishwasher being started and then she heard the unmistakable sounds of people kissing, a few sighs thrown in for good measure. The knot in her belly tightened.

“Ok. I gotta go,” Armie said eventually, and she could hear the whine of disapproval in Timmy’s sigh.

“Can I wait up for you?” Timmy asked quietly, his tone rife with innuendo, which merited another kiss in lieu of an answer, though this one was brief.

“Come on Honey Badger, let’s let Fraya take care of you for a while,” Armie said, and suddenly Timmy was hoisted off of the kitchen island and thrown over his shoulder, giggling and long legs flailing, but thankfully Armie had a good grip over the back of his thighs.

“Heads up,” Armie warned before he dropped Timmy on the couch, practically over Fraya, though she had the good sense to part her legs so he fell butt first between them, his back thudding against her chest and his head thrown over his shoulder. 

“Really?” she glared at Armie once she was able to speak, the weight of Timmy having knocked the air out of her momentarily. 

“I’ll be back in a bit. Take over for a while. He’s being particularly clingy tonight.” He chuckled smugly, and somehow that made him look more handsome; this annoyed her more. 

In her periphery, she could see the lusty way Timmy was staring up at Armie, feeling his heart racing with excitement after having been thrown about with little effort, and she couldn’t help the tightening low in her belly from happening.

“I wonder why?” Fraya questioned pointedly, trying to maintain her air of discontentment, though unsuccessfully.

“I don’t,” Armie teased, and she knew this smirk by heart. 

Her pulse quickened because she loved it when he had that look in his eye. Her breath caught with anticipation when he leaned close and slowly slid a hand over both of their right legs, his large hand easily covering both their shins and then their knees, the roughness of his palm on her bare skin making her shiver. But then his hand was gone and she looked down to see that it wasn’t that he had stopped, but rather that he had altered his path to move from both their mid-thighs to Timmy’s inner thigh, and then settled with a firm grip over the already distended bulge of his jeans. 

Timmy breathed in sharply, his mouth falling wide and his back pressing hard into Fraya’s chest as he pushed his hips up to meet Armie’s palm, one hand gripping Armie’s forearm, the other digging into the soft flesh of Fraya hip beneath him, and she gasped despite herself.

She watched as Armie came even closer, his free hand pressed into the arm of the couch for leverage, just next to her head so that as he stretched his body over theirs, the cotton of his shirt brushed against her cheek, the smell of his cologne and of his skin impregnated into the fabric. 

He made sure that Fraya’s eyes were on him and then kissed Timmy. He did so almost sloppily, their tongues visible and eager, lips slick and skin splotchy with desire. She shifted involuntarily, pressing her pelvis into Timmy’s kidneys as his fingers dug even deeper into her skin. 

Timmy moaned into Armie’s mouth when he squeezed him once more for good measure before pulling away, leaving him panting and wanton. Fraya stopped breathing all together when Armie turned his head to the side slightly so he could look at her, and as he leaned in she found herself feeling as wanton as Timmy, the anticipation of being next sending her heart into arrhythmia. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, hovering barely a centimeter from her lips, his breath warm on her face; and just when she thought he was finally going to close the gap, he kissed the tip of her nose and stood, leaving her wide-eyed and mouth agape. “Be good while I'm gone,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away, smiling with satisfaction, proud of the state he had left them both in.

Fraya and Timmy had stared after him for a full minute after Armie had disappeared into the reception area before Fraya felt the boy laid out on top of her move, which snapped her out of her state of disbelief. 

‘’No!’’ she stated unequivocally despite her entire body being covered in goosebumps when he turned his head to the side and kissed a sensitive spot on her neck . ‘’Not happening either,’’ she said when he lifted both hands to his jeans to unbutton them. Timmy sighed with frustration.

‘’But Armie said…’’ he began, wanting to remind her that Armie had told her to take care of him, but she cut him off.

‘’And I said no.’’ 

‘’Fine!’’ Timmy replied petulantly and let his arms drop to his sides. ‘’I need to a minute before I can get up though.’’

There was a brief moment of tension between them once Timmy had extricated himself from the couch, but it was fleeting. 

‘’I need ice cream. Chocolate or caramel sauce?’’ she had asked him, heading into the kitchen to fix them each a bowl.

‘’Both, obviously," he answered, coming to help by grabbing bowls out of the cupboard and laying them out with spoons on the counter.

They ate their dessert in the living room while they chatted, Fraya sitting in the recliner to keep a respectable distance between them. Timmy had circled back to the conversation they had started earlier about her illness, which she minimised by stating it was simply an auto-immune disorder that left her vulnerable to viruses. This explained why the doctor prescribed her antiviral medicine that with time became less effective and needed to be replaced. This seemed to satisfy Timmy, so he changed the subject.

‘’Do you wanna play a game?’’ she asked him after he had finished his ice cream and licked the bowl, Fraya having probably spent too much time watching the way his tongue slid over the white ceramic.

‘’Sure. Which game do you want to play? Truth or dare? Spin the bottle? Seven minutes in heaven?’’ he asked with a crooked smile. 

‘’Are we twelve?’’ she retorted flippantly, though she was clearly amused and he laughed.

‘’I saw the way you watched me lick that bowl.’’ He was acting smug now, and somehow that just made him cuter. ‘’I’m just saying, if you wanted to reconsider your earlier position on what Armie said, I would totally be up for that.’’

‘’No pun intended, I’m sure,’’ she retorted quickly, rolling her eyes.

‘’Pun 100% intended,’’ he confirmed, and they both laughed.

‘’Stop. No, it’s not that type of game. It’s more of an exercise actually. Basically I have to think about something, it can be a person or a memory or a song even, and you have to try to guess what I'm feeling.’’

‘’Ok!’’ He seemed uncertain. ‘’Why do I feel like we should be drunk to play this?’’

‘’No, oh my gosh can you just play along please,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s something they do in psych classes to practice spatial empathy. The theory is that what someone is feeling can be felt in the space around them if people are perceptive enough.’’  
This was a lie of course. There was no such thing as spatial empathy, unless you were an empath. But she obviously couldn’t tell him that. She did however want to see if her theory about him was correct or not. 

Timmy was obviously uneasy. Just like they had never discussed why Fraya and Armie had taken him in, they had never talked about why he started using in the first place, and he was worried if they played this he would expose something that would freak her out. Suddenly he yearned for the protection heroine provided his brain, and this scared him. He pushed the thought away.

‘’Can we try another time? I’m kind of tired, and it seems like this requires a lot of concentration. I don’t think I'd be very good.’’

‘’Sure!’’ she agreed.

‘’You’re disappointed,’ he stated, brows furrowed.

‘’I thought we weren’t playing,’’ she chided, smiling at him.

‘’I didn’t read your mind or anything,’’ he smiled back. ‘’Your face was speaking for you.’’ This was also a lie. He had felt her disappointment inside his chest. It had reminded him of opening a present you hoped was something special but turned out to be a pair of socks. Disappointment was better than disgust, he reminded himself.

True to his word, Armie was only gone a few hours. Both Fraya and Timmy were reading in bed when he came home. Timmy’s excitement at his return didn’t go unnoticed by Fraya. He was practically vibrating the second they heard the key in the front door. Armie went straight to the bedroom to say hello, rounding the bed to kiss Timmy first, which Fraya thought was... interesting. Timmy latched onto him immediately, arms flung around Armie’s neck to pull him closer, almost desperately. His conversation with Fraya had left him feeling some withdrawal symptoms, and because he was ashamed, he hadn’t wanted her to know. Now that Armie was back, he would be able to get some relief.

‘’Woah. Someone missed me,’’ Armie said, laughing as he almost tipped over. ‘’I’ll be right back. Hold that thought,’’ he added when Timmy grated his teeth on the scruff of his jaw, a clear indication of what he wanted. 

‘’Hi!’’ he said to Fraya after rounding the bed again to come to her side, bending over to kiss her. She turned her head at the last minute and she felt him smile against her cheek. ‘’Can I talk to you for two minutes?’’

Fraya got out from under the covers and followed him into the kitchen, waiting as he got himself a glass of water, drank half of it, and handed it to her so she could drink some as well.

‘’I got you an appointment with the Don for after tomorrow. Can you hold on ‘til then?’’ he whispered so Timmy wouldn’t hear. She nodded, crossing her arms, an unconscious act of self-protection at the mention of the Don. ‘’There’s only one problem though. It’s at the same time as the book club. I can’t cancel it again, so Timmy will have to do it.’’

‘’What? NO!’’ she had raised her voice but quickly readjusted. ‘’No. You aren’t sending him to that by himself. I don’t even want him going at all, and you want to send him alone?’’

"We aren’t having this conversation again. There’s no way in hell you’re going to that appointment by yourself Fraya.’’ 

‘’Bodies heal, right?’’ she countered trying to sound unaffected, though she wasn’t succeeding. ‘’I’ll be fine. Or find someone else.’’

‘’There is no one else. None that fit your requirements on such short notice. You’re on a clock, or have you forgotten?’’ When she shook her head, he continued. ‘’It could be anybody Aya. It doesn’t have to be someone vile. Nobody has to die. You could feed off of Timmy and he’d be fine. One dose and he wouldn’t even remember anything.’’

‘’What? Timmy? Are you insane? What’s the matter with you? What are you even saying? How did we get from ‘it doesn’t have to be somebody vile', to Timmy?’’ she was appalled at the suggestion.

‘’Do you need me to answer some of those questions or... no?’’ Armie tried to make light of the situation, but Fraya wasn’t amused.

‘’They were rhetorical,’’ she spat. 

‘’Relax, I was only pointing out that it doesn’t have to be so complicated. I appreciate your principles, but you don’t have the time or prerogative to be picky right now. But if you’re going to insist on keeping them, then I will take you to the Don, Timmy will take care of the book club ladies…’’

‘’No.’’

‘’Jesus Christ. Did you forget where I found him? He’s done worse things.’’ Armie’s exasperation was beginning to show.

‘’You don’t want me going to the appointment alone, fine. You go to the book club, Timmy comes with me.’’ 

‘’Now you’re insane. No.’’ He looked shocked at the suggestion. ‘’What’s he supposed to do if things get out of hand? Bite his lip seductively while he shake his ass in their direction hoping it’ll distract them?’’ He was being facetious of course and she knew it, but that didn’t stop Fraya from imagining the scene, and it made her blush.

‘’I mean… It would work on me.’’ she admitted sheepishly, joking but not really, the image of Timmy, back arched and bum in the air, looking over his shoulder alluringly, his bottom lip swollen and wet trapped between his teeth, basically defying them to come and tear him apart, made her head spin.

"Yeah ok, that would work on me too honestly,’’ Armie finally admitted, and they both burst out laughing.

‘’Can we continue this argument tomorrow?" she asked as their fits of laughter subsided, feeling drained suddenly. “I’m tired.”

Armie nodded and pulled her into his chest where she buried her nose right into his sternum, inhaling deeply, the familiarity of his smell soothing her immediately. Soon his hand was in her hair pulling down so that she looked up at him.

“Are you going to show me your cheek again if I try to kiss you?” he asked, feigning emotional distress. She simply shrugged, knowingly very well that he knew she wouldn’t.

He kissed her softly, nothing like the show he had put on kissing Timmy earlier. This was a kiss about comfort and reassurance, as much for her as for himself, to remind them both that without the other, they were incomplete and that despite any argument they may have, in the end, it was them against the world.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said once their lips had parted, Armie sighing contentedly, chin resting on the top of her head. 

‘’I’m going to go sleep in Maika’s bed tonight, ok?’’ She had formulated it as a question, almost as though she were asking his permission, but she wasn’t.

‘’What? Why?’’ Armie asked, hand back in her hair, pulling down so she was looking up at him again. His brow was knitted and the line of his mouth was arching toward his chin. 

They had shared a bed since they were children, never spending a night apart unless Armie was out of town on business or if Maika was having issues sleeping, and in that case she usually ended up in bed with them, not the other way around.

‘’I’m exhausted. And I don’t think pretty boy in there is planning on letting you sleep.’’ She smiled, hoping it would reassure him and he would see that she didn’t mind. Because she shouldn’t. 

Fraya could tell by the way his eyes were shifting that he was conflicted. She wanted him to tell her that she was being silly and insist that she come to bed. She wanted him to convince her to join them or say that if she was really that tired, Timmy could wait. But he didn’t, and the longer he remained silent, obviously torn between what he should say and what he wanted to say, her heart broke. It was faint; a microabrasion probably a kin to a papercut, shallow, barely visible but painful nonetheless. She steeled herself against the unfamiliar stinging sensation and strengthened her resolve. 

“It’s ok. Really. Go have fun and I’ll see you in the morning,” she assured him, patting his chest after she had managed to dislodge herself from his arms, which she did with some difficulty as he had tightened his muscles around her ribcage on her first attempt.   
“Night,” she said, pulling him down by the shoulder so she could kiss his cheek before padding off in the direction of the bathroom. 

A few hours later, Fraya was woken by a nightmare she didn’t remember but that had triggered her fight or flight response so intensely she was sweating. She tried to get back to sleep, but the mattress of Maika's single bed was too soft and the metal of the frame creaked under her weight everytime she tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. Eventually she gave up, deciding to get herself a glass of milk in the hopes that the tryptophan would help.

Expecting Armie and Timmy to be asleep, she got out of bed and crept out of the room, opening the door slowly because it had a tendency to creak. The warehouse was bathed in silky dark grays and cold blues by the light coming in from the large windows, and she waited on the second floor landing for her eyes to adjust. She heard them before she saw them, lusty moans mingled with heavy breathing that made her heart stop and then race and then stop again. 

Her pulse quickened and her breath slowed at the sight of them in the bedroom below, naked in the moonlight, in the midst of intercourse, obviously unaware that they had an audience. She felt guilty for looking again, though she couldn’t find the willpower to look away, her entire body frozen in place as she lurked.

Timmy was on his knees on the bed, bent elbows supporting his weight in front of him, his face buried in the mattress between them, hands fisting in the comforter they hadn’t bothered to pull back, curls wild and dark spread out over the paleness of his forearms. 

Armie was kneeling behind him on one knee, the other raised to give himself better access to Timmy backside, strong hands on his narrow hips just below his waist, digging in so fiercely that his fingers looked molded to Timmy’s flesh.

Fraya felt the familiar pangs of arousal as the scene unfolded in front of her, though she felt detached from herself, as though what was happening wasn’t real, or rather like she was watching it on a movie screen. Her fingers tightened around the metal railing at the sight of the muscles in Armie’s thighs and hips tightening as he bucked forward and then pulled back rhythmically, the weight of him pushing Timmy forward each time, the sound of skin against skin rising to tickle her ears. 

She watched as Timmy moved with feline fluidity, his spine curving inward to raise his hips in order to adjust to Armie’s height, his shoulders absorbing the shock with each of his thrusts. He turned his face so that he was resting a cheek against the bed, eyes closed and full lips parted, jaw widening as he groaned after having snaked a hand under his belly, arm stretched to reach his erection.

“Fuck Armie, don’t stop,” Timmy moaned, nose crinkled and teeth exposed under a curled upper lip, Armie pushing deeper inside him with more force at the sound of his name and Timmy’s pleas. 

“Don’t forget to say please,” Armie teased, his voice cocky as always no matter the circumstance. 

The comment reminded her of something that had happened just hours earlier, and her mind reeled as she remembered the argument she had had with Armie just that morning. She had been so frustrated with him at the prospect of Timmy attending the book club appointment that she had called Armie out for barking an order at him and not bothering to say please in the process. Was he making fun of her now? Her heart twinged again and she winced, both from the pain of it and the confusion. The unfamiliar feeling was unwelcome but short lived as the words coming out of Timmy’s mouth sent a wave of arousal so violent and prurient, her belly tightened and she almost moaned, biting her lip hard to contain it.

“Please fuck me. Please don’t stop. Please whatever the fuck you want as long as you please make me come,” Timmy pleaded, his voice sounding needy and gruff despite being muffled in the comforter.

“If you insist,” Armie countered and obliged, spurred on by the euphonic din of Timmy’s moans and the string of unintelligible curse words pouring out of his mouth. 

Timmy came first, the sound of his orgasm affecting Fraya so intensely that she felt the warmth of her own fluids dampening the inside of her thighs through the fabric of her underwear. Armie followed just a few hard thrusts after, head thrown back and eyes closed, pulling Timmy’s ass close into his pelvis, keeping him there until his own body relaxed and stopped shuddering. 

“That was… amazing,” Timmy said for lack of a better word, when Armie dropped to the mattress next to him, panting and spent. Armie chuckled.

“Now what do you say?” he asked, taking hold of Timmy’s chin between his thumb and a crooked finger, another cocky grin visible even from a distance.

“Thank you.” The boy answered without skipping a beat and crashed his mouth onto Armie’s, rolling him onto his back as he did so.

Fraya retreated into Maika’s room and closed the door as delicately as possible, holding her breath and listening hard to make sure they hadn’t noticed her. She pressed her palm firmly between her thighs, not in an attempt to pleasure herself but to try and dull the desire, groaning at the pain she was inflicting, refusing to acknowledge her body’s reaction to what she had just witnessed. Once she was certain the only sound she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears, she crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin tightly, fighting back tears. She would have tried talking herself out of whatever it was she was feeling had she understood it, but she didn’t, and she was at a loss for words.

When she woke up again, she could tell it was the morning by the way the light streamed in through the walls of Maika’s room despite it being diluted by the frosted glass. The headache had returned and she squinted through the pain. She didn’t know how long she had slept - she had tossed and turned for what seemed like hours after her little voyeuristic interlude the night before - but it was definitely not enough. She debated staying in Maika’s room until she heard sounds coming from the ground floor, but the pain was getting worse and she knew if she waited too long to take the anti-virals the doctor had left for her, she would risk another incident.

During her insomnia driven introspection, Fraya had convinced herself that her emotional reaction to seeing Timmy and Armie together was nothing more than a hormonal imbalance caused by the new meds. Nonetheless, she opened the door to Maika’s room and stepped out cautiously, steeling herself against what she might see.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved to see that Timmy was alone in bed, sleeping soundly. Once downstairs, she made her way to the bedroom and crouched down next to Timmy, who was curled into a fetal position on her side of the bed, hugging a pillow to his face, one long forearm dangling over the side of the mattress. He looked peaceful and vulnerable, dark eyelashes fanned out over sleepwarmed cheeks, hair messy covering half his face, lips squished into an awkward shape by the pillow. 

Fraya gently scratched her nails on the inside of his exposed wrist and eventually he stirred, eyelids fluttering and then lifting slowly. It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus.

“Hi,” she greeted him quietly, smiling tenderly. He smiled too.

“Hi. Are you coming to bed?” his voice was thick and drowsy as he stretched an arm out from the comforter to pull it back invitingly so she could get in with him.

“Maybe later ok?” she tentatively promised, her eyes drawn to his nakedness. “I need you to give me my injection.”

“Now?” he asked, but he was already moving, swinging his legs off the mattress and sitting up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood. “Ok.”

“Do you wanna maybe get some pants on first?” she asked, biting the inside of her cheek not to laugh at his lack of modesty. 

Timmy stretched, twisting his torso in one direction and his hips in another, elbows bent at shoulder level, groaning loudly as he did so and then raking his fingers through the tangled mess of his curls. Fraya shifted her eyes to the floor to avoid staring while he grabbed a pair of underwear from his drawer and slipped them on slowly, still wobbly from having just woken up. Then he grabbed a belt from Armie’s accessory drawer and stretched an open hand in her direction.

‘’Let’s go,’’ he beckoned, and Fraya slipped her palm into his, allowing him to walk her to the living room.

Fraya waited in the recliner while Timmy went to gather the supplies he needed and then laid everything out on the coffee table in front of him. She watched as he prepared the needle, filling the cylinder with the exact antiviral dosage prescribed by the doctor, and then used a clean cotton ball doused in rubbing alcohol to clean the inside of her elbow. 

‘’This is going to be a little tight,’’ he warned, taking the belt and tying it around her bicep, the sound of the metal buckle clicking loudly in the quiet, the leather cool yet chafing on her skin. ‘’I think that’s good," he said once he was done.

‘’I think the last time this belt was wrapped around me I was being tied the bed," Fraya said coyly, trying to distract him from the nerves he was obviously fighting. 

‘’I’ve never done this to anyone else before,’’ he worried, cleaning her skin with another cottonball.

‘’Tied someone up?’’ She tried again, but he wasn’t biting.

‘’Fraya stop. What if I hurt you?’’ he worried, looking up at her, eyes narrow and his dark eyebrows touching. 

‘’Then you hurt me,’’ she stated simply. ‘’It needs to be done. If you miss the first time, then you try again, and if you miss a second, then you try again. I trust you.’’

‘’Ok!’’ he said, taking a deep bracing breath. ‘’ Make a fist around this dish towel and squeeze, but not too hard.’’

Fraya did as she was told and Timmy tapped on her forearm gently to try and get a few veins to peek through. He managed to find a good one on his second try, and he quickly injected her with the medicine. Before removing the needle he unbuckled the belt one handed and removed it, letting it fall to the ground. When he pulled out the needle, a few drops of blood pooled out and he wiped them away with another cotton ball that he then held in place with his thumb, applying pressure for a few minutes. 

‘’There you go,’’ Timmy said, after having removed his thumb and the cotton ball to assess the damage, relieved to see that there was barely a bruise visible other than the tiny needle mark.

Immediately, Timmy picked up all the supplies, bringing the vial of antivirals to the refrigerator. Seeing as how he was unusually quiet, Fraya followed, and after he had thrown out the dirty cotton ball and disposed of the used needle, she stopped him by placing his hand on his arm and pulling him gently so he turned to face her.

‘’Thank you. I know this wasn’t easy for you,’’ she said, looking up at him, hoping her eyes conveyed how grateful she was that he would do this for her, despite all the negative memories and cravings this might cause him. He didn’t stop her when she raised onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a hug, and he quickly melted into the embrace, releasing all the stress he had been holding in.

‘’What’s going on here?’’ Armie asked playfully, appearing from the bathroom area in that moment, a towel wrapped around his waist, using a smaller one to rub his hair dry. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said once he’d reached them, kissing Fraya first and then Timmy, having only to turn his head from left to right to do so. “You ok?” he asked Fraya, and she nodded.

Timmy lingered a moment, arms wrapped tightly around Fraya’s shoulders and then he released her to snake his arms around Armie’s waist, nuzzling his nose into damp chest hair and breathing in the smell of his clean skin.  
“I’ll make breakfast,” Timmy offered when Armie released him to go and get dressed in the bedroom. “Bacon and eggs ok?”

Timmy set to work in the kitchen, whisking eggs and frying up some bacon while Armie and Fraya sat at the breakfast bar sipping their coffees, Armie catching up on some work emails and Fraya burying her nose in her book. Once in a while she would look up from a page to take a sip from her mug, and inevitably Armie would be watching Timmy, smiling at him when he noticed and otherwise just following him with his eyes, a smile Fraya had never seen before on his lips. Once the bacon was cooked, Timmy drained it on a paper towel and bit off half a piece before reaching over the island to feed Armie the other half. He was practically beaming at the boy as he chewed, licking his lips with satisfaction once he’d swallowed, Timmy grinning back at him as he licked the grease off his fingers.

They sat at the dining room table to eat, the boys scarfing down their food as boys tended to do, discussing what their plans were for the day. Fraya opted to sit at the head of the table to continue reading; they weren’t really paying attention to her anyway. When they were done, Timmy got up to clear their dishes and Fraya asked him to hand her one of the bananas from the fruit bowl. He brought it to her and refilled her coffee before rounding the table to refill Armie’s mug.

Over the pages of her novel, Fraya saw Armie take the coffee pot out of Timmy’s hand and set it on the table before fisting his hand in the fabric of Timmy’s shirt so he could pull him down onto his lap and kiss his neck. She tried to ignore them and concentrate on what was going on with the characters in her novel, distractedly taking a small bite of her banana, chewing it slowly, and swallowing even more slowly before taking another.

Muffled giggles and conspiratorial murmurs caught her attention and she looked up again, finding them both looking at her, Armie whispering something into Timmy’s ear that made him laugh out loud, and he buried his face into Armie’s neck to muffle it.

“What?” Fraya asked with a sigh, already aware they were laughing at her expense.

“Is that banana giving you trouble Aya?” Armie asked, laughter in his voice. “I think it might be too big for your mouth.” Timmy seemed to think this was hilarious.

“Wow! We’re doing blowjob humor now. Funny!” she said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head dejectedly.

“I just mean, you're taking really small bites,” Armie continued.

“I know what you meant. Put two specimens with penises in a room together and suddenly the IQ quotient drops dramatically. I wouldn’t have thought either of you were the middle school locker room bullshit type. And even at that, it’s a really crass and childish brand of humor. But I mean, clearly you're playing to your audience, so it makes sense.” 

“Hey!” both boys said in unison, suddenly not laughing anymore, their chastised expressions mirroring each other, her insult having hit its mark.

“Aww. Did I hurt your feelings? I’m sorry,” she apologized sarcastically, smiling into her cup of coffee, satisfied at the regretful pout now replacing their snickering smiles from a moment earlier.

Getting up to throw her banana peel in the garbage, Fraya stopped next to the boys and bent down close to Timmy so she could whisper in his ear.

“By the way,” she started, voice quiet and sultry, breath moist and warm on the skin of his cheek. “It doesn’t matter how small my mouth is. It’s what I can do with my tongue and how far down my throat I can take you that matters. And trust me what I tell you, I’m much better at it than he is.” 

While this information sank in, Fraya flicked her tongue inside Timmy’s ear before sucking his earlobe into her mouth and biting it softly. His body was rocked by a shiver so strong he exhaled forcibly, mouth agape and eyes wide, staring at nothing in front of him as his hands dug into Armie’s forearm around his waist. He jumped when she placed her hand over his crotch to validate that her little comment had had the desired effect, and satisfied that it had, she turned to Armie, who was watching the scene quizzically, and smiled.

“See! I can do it too. It’s not hard. Well, he is... but getting him there isn’t.” With that she leaned in, kissed Armie chastely on the lips, and walked away.

Shortly after lunch, the boys went out for an hour or so to pick up Maika and get a few things for supper. Fraya had offered to go, but Armie had refused, saying she still needed to rest, especially since she had an appointment with the Don the next day. 

“Are you coming with?” Armie had asked Timmy, who immediately hurried off to get dressed and put on his boots. “What?” he asked Fraya when she looked at him sardonically over the rim of her glasses.

“Absolutely nothing,” she answered with a shrug, returning to her book. She had tried to keep her expression passive but had never been very good at it when it came to Armie. He read her accurately almost always. This time was no different, but she could tell he was choosing to ignore it. 

When Fraya heard the car in the parking lot, she was upstairs making Maika’s bed to avoid the little girl asking why someone had slept in it. She quickly went downstairs and waited in the reception area. She watched through the glass front door as Timmy got out of the passenger side seat and opened the back door, bending into the chassis and emerging with Maika in his arms while Armie went to the trunk to gather her overnight bag and the groceries they had stopped to pick up. Maika almost leapt out of Timmy’s arms when she saw Fraya, who was holding the door open for them, rushing to her and wrapping her tiny arms around her waist.

‘’Comment c’est passé ta soirée pyjama?’’ Fraya asked once they were all inside and she was helping the little girl take off her winter attire. 'How was your pyjama party?’

‘’Bien. Mais je me suis ennuyée de toi,’’ Maika answered, wrapping her arms around Fraya’s neck and pressing her little nose into her check. ‘Good. But I missed you.’

‘’Moi aussi mon ange. Aller! Viens tout me raconter.’’ ‘I missed you too, angel. Come on, tell me everything.’

Despite Fraya’s protestations, Armie had agreed to Maika’s request of omitting a well balanced meal in favor of sharing finger foods and movie snacks while they watched Disney’s Brave, for the hundredth time. Fraya had finally conceded, but on the condition that Maika take her shower and get in her pjs before the movie.

While the boys prepared the food, Fraya and Maika showered, and once everyone was in their pjs, Armie laid out the spread buffet style on the coffee table. Frozen pizza cut into little squares, baked cheese sticks, pigs in a blanket, buttered popcorn, homemade caramel corn, and a big bowl of M&Ms. Not a fruit or vegetables in sight. Not even a bottle of the pure apple juice Fraya usually served with popcorn for movie night. Instead, Timmy had made a big pitcher of powdered lemonade. Maika clapped with glee at what Armie and Timmy had prepared, which was the only reason Fraya held her tongue, not wanting to be the bad guy and risk disappointing the little girl, even if her instincts were being severely tested.

Given the time of year, it was already dark when they settled in front of the TV, Maika having insisted that all the lights in the warehouse be turned off to make it more like a real movie theater. They all cuddled up together on the couch, Maika sitting on Fraya’s lap, her feet stretched over Timmy’s thigh, Armie’s arm draped lazily over her shins.

Timmy shifted at some point during the movie so that his back was pressed against Armie’s side with his head in the crook of his neck, Armie’s arm leaving the top of Maika’s legs to wrap itself around Timmy, his forearm almost as long as the width of Timmy’s shoulders, lazy fingers slipping inside the collar of Timmy's shirt to caress his collarbone.

Timmy turned his head toward Armie and nudged his cheek with his nose, which made Armie smile and turn to kiss Timmy softly. The kiss was rather chaste in comparison to the overt public displays of affection they’d been engaging in before Maika had come home, but it was lingering enough that the little redhead noticed.

‘’Owe! Maika!?’’ Timmy reprimanded, rubbing the spot on his thigh where Maika had hit him with the back of her heel to get his attention.

“Are you in love?” she asked point blank, looking at them both expectantly.

‘’I… what do you mean?’’ Timmy finally asked, after a silence that was too long and too telling, neither he nor Armie knowing how to answer the question. Fraya seemed to be waiting for them to answer as well. 

‘’Are you and Armie in love like Fraya and Armie are in love?’’ she clarified, which did nothing to help them answer.

‘’Do you think they’re in love?’’ Fraya asked Maika, stepping in as neither Armie or Timmy seemed able to speak, her voice showing no sign of the annoyance she was feeling inside. Did she have to do everything around here? Maika contemplated the question for a moment, blue eyes peering intently at Timmy in Armie’s arms, her little pink lips pinched ponderingly.

‘’I think so. Yes,’’ she finally assessed. ‘’Are you in love with Timmy too?’’ she asked Fraya immediately, and the look of relief on Armie’s face was not lost on her.

‘’Of course I love Timmy,’’ Fraya answered, looking pointedly at Armie so he would understand that he would be held accountable later for his lack of response. ‘’You love Timmy, right? And Armie loves Timmy too. There are a lot of different types of love, but it’s all still love. Who you love and when you love or even how you love, doesn’t really matter right? Because why?’’

‘’Love is the most important thing. It’s everything,’’ Maika recited dutifully.

‘’Exactly. Does that answer your question?’’

Maika nodded, seemingly satisfied, and returned her attention to the screen, tucking her feet back under Timmy’s hands. They finished the movie without further incident, and once the closing credits came to end, Fraya asked Maika to go and brush her teeth.

‘’Can you go and make sure she also brushes her hair please?’’ Fraya asked Timmy and he nodded, heading off to join Maika at the bathroom sink. ‘’Come with me,’’ she said to Armie once Timmy was far enough away that he wouldn't hear her.

Fraya grabbed Armie by the hand and stalked into the reception area, almost dragging him behind her despite the fact that his legs were almost twice the length of hers.

‘’What are you doing?’’ she accused more than asked once they were hidden from view and out of earshot.

‘’What do you mean?’’ Armie feigned ignorance, though it was obvious he knew very well what she was alluding to.

‘’What are you doing with Timmy?’’ she specified unnecessarily. ‘’You can’t keep your eyes or your hands off of him. Even Maika can see it and she’s only been back a few hours.’’

‘’Don’t exaggerate. He’s pretty and he feels good. I’m just having fun.’’ He tried to deflect, but Fraya wasn’t buying it.

‘’No you’re not. He’s pretty and he feels good? Who are you? You can’t even manage to lie about it decently.’’

‘’What do you want me to say Fraya? That I’m in love with him? Come on, you know me better than that.’’ 

"I don’t know that I do, actually. If you are, then you need to say it. Or if you’re getting attached to him then you need to say that too. Because that changes things. Or have you forgotten why he's here to begin with?’’ her voice had cracked in the last sentence, showing emotion she was trying to contain.

‘’Don’t. You know I haven’t.’’

‘’Ok then. Just be careful. Because there's more riding on this than just hurt feelings. And there's no need for either of you to suffer more than you need to.’’

‘’Fraya look at me,’’ he said, holding her by the upper arms tightly. ‘’You and me… and Maika. That’s the endgame. Nothing changes that. Nothing. I know what I have to do. But can we talk about you for a minute?’’

‘’Me?’’ she was taken aback. 

‘’Yeah you. Being all overprotective, not wanting him to go to the book club meeting, watching me touch him and obviously wanting to touch him too, but for some reason you won’t. Not really. Are YOU in love with him?’’

‘’Fuck off. Don’t turn this around on me,’’ she immediately deflected.

‘’You’re not answering the question.’’

Before she could answer, a black sedan with tinted windows drove into the parking lot and stopped just in front of the walkway. Armie and Fraya stopped arguing and watched through the glass door as the driver kept the car idling and exited the vehicle carrying a large white garment box wrapped in a light pink ribbon. Fraya was thankful for the distraction from a conversation that was quickly turning on her, but she knew who this was and the relief was quickly replaced by apprehension.

‘’A gift for Miss Fraya from the Don,’’ the man said when Armie opened the door. He handed Armie the box. ‘’A car will be here tomorrow at 7pm to pick her up.’’

‘’Perfect. I’ll make sure she’s ready. Thank you, Sean,’’ Armie said. Sean was the Don’s driver and he had delivered packages just like this before.

‘’You’re welcome, Sir. Have a good evening,’’ the man offered and turned on his heels, walked to his car, and drove off, ignoring Fraya’s presence completely.

‘’BYE SEAN!!!!!’’ Fraya yelled after him, making a show of it and her annoyance. ‘’He knows I was standing right fucking here, right?’’ she asked pointedly, hands opened wide in the air in a questioning gesture that needed no answer. ‘’You’re welcome, Sir. Pfft. Misogynist pig,’’ she mocked.

‘’AYA, I’M READY FOR BED,’’ they heard Maika calling from the warehouse, and Fraya grabbed the box from Armie’s hands. Armie held onto it so that they were both tugging at it on either side, and Fraya looked up at him questioningly.

‘’Are you going to answer the question? Are you in love with him?’’ he asked her and she scoffed.

‘’Not any more than you are,’’ she said. She tugged hard without warning and fell backward on her heels when Armie let go of his side of the box.

‘’What’s that? Can I see? What is it?’’ Maika asked when Fraya walked into the warehouse with the box in hand.

‘’Somebody sent me a present. Let me open it and then I’ll show you.’’

Fraya brought the box into the bedroom and took its big bow off before setting it down on the bed and opening the cover. She pushed aside a few layers of pale pink tissue paper and peered into the box, already dreading what she would find.

‘’Oh god. It’s even worse than last time,’’ she said, picking up the very small dress and showing it to Armie.

‘’Prettyyyyyyyy.’’ Maika awed, and Armie stifled a laugh on the back of his hand.

The garment, which looked like it would fit Maika in just a few years, was a white hollowed-out lace babydoll dress complete with short puff sleeves, smocked cuffs, and a peter pan collar. The cotton was thin, practically see through, and there was no liner or slip to go with it. Fraya looked through the box and pulled out a pair of ruffled ankle socks and black patent leather mary-jane style stilettos, showing them to Armie as well, her expression clearly saying ‘what the actual fuck’, though she held her tongue given Maika’s presence.

‘’What did he send last time?’’ Timmy asked, coming to sit next to Fraya on the bed, looking into the box and curling his lip, a look of revulsion or anger or both on his face when he saw the white lace balconette bra and g-string Fraya hadn’t taken out.

‘’Standard school girl uniform," Fraya replied, putting everything back into the box.

‘’And the time before that it was a maid’s uniform, and once it was a rather revealing nun’s outfit. That one was my personal favorite.’’ Armie laughed and Fraya shook her head, but there was a faint creep of a smile appearing on the corner of her mouth. Timmy didn’t seem to be amused.

‘’Could this guy be more of a cliché? What is it he expects you to do exactly?’’ he asked, obviously concerned. 

‘’Ok. Let’s get the munchkin to bed before you guys start saying things that are inappropriate for little ears. Aller mon ange. On y va.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I move on to Chapter 10, I want to write a one-shot extension of this chapter. As this is written mostly from Fraya's perspective, I want to explore why Armie is the way he is and his growing feeling - and attraction - toward Timmy in the process. And also, because this Chapter was about what Fraya saw transpire between the boys, which was just a brief part of their night, I also want to extrapolate on that.... for my own satisfaction lol.
> 
> Chapter Ten is already partially written though. So it shouldn't be too long.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get ready for the appointment with The Don.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me so long to get this posted. Little people, work and other WIPs have been keeping me busy. Hopefully I can get chapter 11 out sooner.

Maika had insisted on Armie putting her to bed and he had done so gladly, carrying her up the stairs to her room on piggy back, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pink little cheek pressed against his ear. Timmy began cleaning up the mess in the living room, bringing empty plates and platters to Fraya who was loading the dishwasher and filling the sink with soapy water. They worked in silence, a mild discomfort having settled between them. Fraya was replaying her conversation with Armie, wondering how he always managed to turn things around on her and make it seem as though it was her judgement being clouded because it wasn’t. Was it? No! She was protecting an asset not developing feelings. Maybe if she repeated that to herself a few more times she’d believe it.

She was washing the glass pitcher used for the lemonade when a wave of pain blinded her, the brutality of it flipping her stomach and seizing her muscles. The pitcher slipped from her hands and dropped into the soapy water, hitting the bottom of the sink with a loud thud, water slapping up in a big wave that splashed her and the counter. She gripped the side of the sink but her hands were slippery and she crumpled to the floor.

“I’m fine! It’s already going away.” she insisted, when Timmy rushed to her side in a panic and dropped next to her. “Just stay with me a minute.”

The pain was receding more or less rapidly this time as was the nausea. She slumped sideways against Timmy’s chest, her shoulder pressing into his breast bone and her head resting under his chin. She closed her eyes and began inhaling with measured breathes. Timmy counted silently along with her, in for four, out for four, mirroring her rhythm to help calm her. She sighed contentedly when the hand he had been trailing up and down her spine grazed up the nap of her neck and tangled itself in the hair there, scratching her scalp a few times before resuming it’s trajectory back down to her tailbone and up again.  
  
“I should go get Armie.” Timmy stated but she refused, latching onto the arm he had placed around her waist.

“No. I’m fine. I just need a minute.” she insisted, trying to stand but her legs were too shaky and she collapsed back onto him.

“I’m gonna go get Armie.” Timmy insisted but Fraya begged him not too.

“Please don’t. I’m fine. Really! Please, Tim. You can’t tell him. Please.” she was begging now, burying her face in his neck and pulling him closer, hand fisted in the collar of his sweater.

Fraya was playing the damsel in distress a little heavily for Timmy’s benefit. She was actually starting to feel better but she needed Timmy to do as she asked and not go to Armie. If Armie found out she had had an episode he would insist on accompanying her - sending Timmy to the book club appointment which she absolutely did not want - or worse, he would cancel her appointment tomorrow and she needed to keep it. She had morals even if on paper she worked the sex trade.

“Please. Promise me Tim.” she insisted with a sob muffled against his adam’s apple, pressing her body into his; lips grazing his skin when she pleaded 

She knew she had him when she felt the tension in his spin release and he slouched around her, his breath catching when she slid a hand under his hoodie to grope at the thin fabric of his t-shirt to show her desperation.

“Ok. I promise.” he said and Fraya hid a smile on his shoulder.

‘God he’s easy’ she thought fondly more so than victoriously and she rewarded him by kissing his neck and then stretching up slightly to kiss his lips. 

She could tell he was trying to be gentle, not wanting to take more than she could or would want to offer, so she parted her lips and flicked at his with her tongue. Immediately his hands were at her waist and she was pulled onto his lap so he could press her chest to his as he explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue. 

They were interrupted by the sound of Maika’s bedroom door opening and Fraya pulled away, sliding back to the ground between Timmy’s knees before Armie saw them. She felt guilty. Timmy looked guilty. She rolled her eyes. 

“Why are you on the floor?” Armie asked when he saw them, laughing openly when she lied and said she’d slipped in some water. “Why is he on the floor?” Armie furthered, once he reached her and with one swift tug had pulled her up and into his arms. 

“I pulled him down with me.” she lied again, light headed now that she was upright. It was her turn to feel guilty.

She wobbled unsteadily, her head spinning slightly and gripped onto him hoping he wouldn’t notice. He pushed her hair out of her face and examined her briefly. She nodded. ‘I’m ok,’ it meant and he seemed satisfied. Repositioning her so he could support her with one arm, he outstretched his free hand to pull Timmy up and into his arm as well. 

They both nuzzled into him; Fraya into the crook of his right shoulder and Timmy into the left side of his neck, their arms crossing over each other around his waist. Fraya nudged Timmy’s arm with her so he would look down at her. ‘Thank you.’ she mouthed silently and winked at him. Timmy smiled and hid his blush into Armie’s shoulder. 

“So,” Armie asked after a while. “Are we going to bed or are we gonna stand here all night?”

__________________________________________________________________________________

Fraya had slept fitfully. She had woken up periodically with increasing levels of migraines and by four a.m. she couldn’t deal with it anymore. Both she and Timmy were draped over Armie in similar fashion and she did her best to nudge Timmy awake without rousing him. She was going almost blind from the pain at this point and she needed to make sure Armie didn’t find out.

Timmy groggily stirred and shimmied to find a new comfortable position against Armie before he realized it was Fraya who was scratching her nails on his arm, pulling him from his slumber. He opened his eyes and it took a minute for him to be able to focus. She was talking in such a hushed voice he could barely hear her and needed to see her lips move to understand.

“I need my shot.” she whispered through gritted teeth, wincing harshly. When she saw that he was about to wake up Armie she dug her nails into his arm. It was his turn to wince. ‘’You promised.’’ she reminded him and he sighed, resigned. 

They got up quietly and as they had done the other mornings, Fraya went to sit in the large leather arm chair and watched as Timmy went to get the supplies watching her the whole time. Fraya knew if she showed any signs of worsening, he would forget the promise he had made her and get Armie so she worked hard to control her face and her breathing.

She sat with her eyes closed as timmy secured the belt around her upper arm and tightened it, as he tapped at the inside of her elbow to help the veins come to the surface and still she kept them closed when he huffed that she was dehydrated because he couldn’t find a good one and needed more light. She knew all this complaining was just worry and anxiety about having to do this, probably hurting her in the process and having to lie to Armie about her state. Unfortunately, she was on the verge of passing out and she needed all her energy to stop it from happening. He would have to cope with these feelings alone for now.

Eventually Timmy was able to administer Fraya her shot and once he was done, he kneeled next to her, watching intently until the lines in her brow softened and her teeth unclenched, showing him that the meds were working. Relieved, he buried his face in her lap and she petted his hair gratefully. 

‘’Thank you.’’ she whispered, leaning her head against the back of the chair, exhaustion catching up to her now that the pain was nothing more than an annoying buzzing in the back of her skull.

‘’Umhmm.’’ he muttered, arms coming to wrap around her thighs as though they were a pillow. He was falling asleep too.

When she woke up a few hours later, she and Timmy were back in bed and alone. She had no recollection of how she got there. 

She stretched, expecting to find resistance by way of Timmy’s body but she had plenty of room. Timmy, who was usually sprawled all over her, was hugging the other side of the bed. She missed the proximity almost instinctively so she shimmied her way across the mattress until she could spoon him, nestling her pelvis up against his bum, her thighs being much shorter than his not allowing her to curve her legs along with his so they lied straight at an awkward angle. She wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed her cheek to his bare back.

‘’What are you doing?’’ he mumbled into the pillow he was cuddling instead of her.

‘’You were far away.’’ she almost whined and he chuckled.

‘’I wanted to let you sleep. You clearly needed it; you didn’t even wake up when Armie carried you to bed.” Her body seized in panic at the mention of Armie having to carry her because she wasn’t well. ‘’Don’t worry I covered for you.” He reassured her and Fraya relaxed. She kissed his spine in thanks and he shivered.

‘’Where’s everyone?” she asked, continuing to press soft kisses on his spine, his neck, his shoulder blade, enjoying the way his body was reacting to her touch but being very conscious of walking the line and not crossing it. 

“Armie took Maika to Lucie’s for the night since all three of us will be out and he said he needed to make a stop at June’s on the way home. He’ll be back in time to deliver you to Sean whoever that is.” he informed her and she groaned into the spot between his shoulder blades. 

Fraya hated a lot of things of her appointments with The Don but being handled by a bunch of men as though she were nothing but a possession, a piece of meat to be delivered, bothered her in a way she couldn't even express. And she hated that Armie liked to play it up so much because it annoyed her. 

She and Timmy stayed in bed for a while longer. Timmy had turned around so he could be the big spoon pressing his hips into her rear and holding her tight against him with an arm around her rib cage. His nose was tucked behind her ear and she dozed to the rhythmic sounds of his even breathing, waking periodically to swat him away playfully when he tried to get a little frisky.

Armie had come home with some takeout for lunch and some liquid courage for Fraya. 

“Maybe you should eat first?” Armie said, pushing a plate in her direction when she grabbed the bottle of bubbly pink moscato wine and began taking the foil off its neck.

There was electricity in the air that left Timmy feeling uneasy. Neither Armie nor Fraya said anything but he could feel that something was different. Either they were nervous or… he wasn’t sure what but it felt off somehow. 

Later that evening, with 7pm quickly approaching, Armie and Timmy were sitting on the couch, primed and waiting for the last hour as Fraya put the finishing touches to her costume. They had turned on the TV and were watching a documentary on the Tuskegee airmen when suddenly music started playing on the surround sound wired throughout the warehouse.

“Oh god!” Armie groaned, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in mock disapproval, a smile visible in the purse of his lips.

“What?” Timmy asked curious, eyes shifting around trying to understand what was happening.

“Fraya’s ready.” Armie answered, scratching a spot on the back of his ear, still shaking his head. 

“Oh, Ok!” Timmy motioned to stand but Armie stopped him by pulling him back down and into his side.

“Nope. You’re gonna wanna sit for this.” He advised and readied himself for the show he knew was coming. Given that Fraya had finished off the bottle of Moscato over the course of the afternoon, he knew it was going to be a good one.

Confused, Timmy settled back into Armie’s arm and waited. At first all that happened was that Fraya had started singing along, loudly, to the song she was streaming through the bluetooth surround sound system. 

“I made it through the wilderness  
Somehow I made it through  
Didn't know how lost I was  
Until I found you”

He recognized the song immediately and guffawed; the selection was a little on the nose although she could carry a tune. Fraya often sang along to whatever was on the radio as she did chores around the house or when she danced around the living room with Maika, but Timmy was impressed by how well she was harmonizing to Madonna’s 80s ode to renewed virginity, her voice taking on a youthful innocence.

Armie nudged his chin in the direction of the bedroom, eyebrows raised and the left corner of his mouth creeping into a smile he was trying to suppress, directing Timmy’s attention to Fraya, who had emerged from behind the large wardrobes, dressed in the outfit her mark had sent. Timmy’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. She looked the epitome of virginal - if your frame of reference was overly produced Daddy porn - and she was playing the part to perfection. He watched her shimmy her way toward them, each step in time with the beat, hips swaying provocatively as she kept her eyes on them, tracing the impressively round curve of her almost bare breasts with a graceful finger, the balconette bra that was also sent for her to wear, visible under the sheer fabric of the too short flowy material.

‘I was beat, Incomplete  
I'd been had, I was sad and blue  
But you made me feel  
Yeah, you made me feel  
Shiny and new”

‘’Not that i’m complaining but… what is happening?” Timmy asked Armie, laughing as he watched Fraya whirling around lasciviously, stopping in front of them to pop her bum in their direction so she could give herself a soft spank.

“This is how Aya gets her head in the game. You just have to let her get it out of her system and enjoy the show.” Armie answered, bobbing his head to the music.

“Hoo, like a virgin  
Touched for the very first time”

“She didn’t do this before we went to Maggie’s.” Timmy pointed out, dancing in his seat, Fraya now undulating salaciously, running her hands over her stomach and then sliding them down between her thighs. He’d be lying if he said this wasn’t cute… and kind of turning him on.

“They’re friends. She genuinely likes Maggie; she's not playing a role when she goes there. Plus, it’s not the same type of appointment.” Armie clarified and eventually spread his knees wide to accommodate Fraya who was now doing body rolls in his direction, pulling her hair up off her shoulder with both hands.

“Like a virgin  
When your heart beats  
Next to mine  
Gonna give you all my love, boy”

This continued for the entirety of the song; Fraya dancing provocatively and pretending to touch herself as she did so, unable to hide a smirk when she noticed Armie having to adjust himself at one point. Once she’d sang the last notes of the song Fraya collapsed on the couch next to Timmy giggling, a thigh thrown over one of his, chest heaving as she panted out of breath. 

“You ready now?” Armie asked her once her breathing had regulated and she nodded looking down at her cleavage which she readjusted for good measure.

“Good.” Armie said and spontaneously grabbed her wrist, pulling her roughly toward him so she landed face down with her belly on his thighs and her thighs on Timmy’s, ass in the air between them both.

This had also caught Timmy by surprise as well and he sat straight back, hands raised as though he were being held at gunpoint, not knowing where to place them now that he had a lap full of half naked Fraya.

“You have been a very bad girl Fraya. What do you have to say for yourself?” Armie asked, deliberately sounding stern and authoritarian. 

“Girls just wanna have fun?” Fraya answered back with laughter in her voice, a little thrilled at having just been manhandled so effortlessly by Armie.

“Young Lady, that’s not even by the same artist. Clearly you haven’t been doing your homework. What are we going to do with you?” Armie continued playing the game, pinning her to his thighs by placing a large hand between her shoulder blades and pressing down gently while he trailed his other hand slowly up the back of her thigh, inching the dress up as he did so.

“Armie!!!” Fraya giggled and girated, the tickling sensation making her shiver. 

“So disrespectful. That’s Sir to you, young lady. Now you definitely need to be punished.” he threatened playfully, pushing the dress up completely over her ass, palm flat on bare skin sliding up until his fingers touched the little triangular piece of fabric at the top of her g-string and he pulled on it wedging the string further into her butt cheeks.

“Armie Stop.” she demanded, trying to fight him off as best she could with his hand still pushing her down, that fact that she was laughing giving little weight to her request.

“We say please Sir in this house.” Armie teased and she shrieked when he tickled her right where the round of her bum met her thigh, contorting and gyrating over their laps in a way that started to cause certain body parts to stand at attention. “Someone needs to get their ass spanked.” he determined and she began to fight harder. 

Armie grabbed her wrists and brought them behind her back, holding them in place with one hand, rubbing larger circles over her ass with the other.

“Armie Hammer! DON'T. YOU. DARE.” she chastised severely and he laughed.

“Go for it.” Armie offered Timmy, wiggling his eyebrows and pointing toward Fraya’s bare bum with his chin in invitation.  
  
Smartly, Timmy refused, shaking his head vehemently, eyes wide with apprehension because he knew better than to take the risk even if he was curious to know what sound his hand would make landing on the bare milky skin of her butt or if her buttcheek would jiggle under his palm after it landed.

“Chicken shit.” Armie chide and without warning, lifted his free hand and brought it down on her left cheek hard, the loud clacking sound echoing into the high ceilings.

Fraya took in a sharp intake of air but didn’t cry out. Instead she went compliant in their laps and rode out the sting, her face flushing and back arching like a cat stretching on their thighs. Timmy and Armie watched as an angry red mark, perfectly outlining the shape of Armie’s hand, appeared on her ass. Armie stifled a laugh in his hand. 

“Oh shit.” Timmy said, unable to stop himself from reaching out to gently trace the outline of the mark with his long fingers.

“Well that’s not good.” Armie admitted, the sound muffled in his hand as he laughed again.

“What?” Fraya asked, pushing herself up on her hands and twisting around as best she could to see what he had done, eyes going wide at the sight of the handprint.

“What the fuck, fucker. Do you know what he’s gonna do to me when he sees THIS?” She wasn’t laughing anymore. Only Timmy seemed to notice.

“It’ll do him good to remember who you really belong to.” Armie stated, in an unusual display of machismo. He didn’t seem to be playing now. Fraya rolled her eyes and got up, twisting around again to get a better look. She appeared a little distraught. 

“I’m sorry! Come here, I’ll kiss it better,” Armie soothed, pulling her backward so he could push up the dress and get a better look. “It’ll fade before you get there.” He tried to reassure.

“It better.” Fraya hissed and Timmy wondered if it was out of frustration or because it hurt when Armie pressed open mouthed kisses into the redness of the mark, the tip of his tongue lapping at her skin with each one. Either way, watching Armie literally kiss Fraya’s ass was doing things to him and he needed to look away.

At seven o’clock exactly, Sean, The Don’s driver, pulled up to the warehouse in a black sedan with tinted windows and waited outside for Fraya. Timmy watched as Armie helped her on with her pink coat and tied the belt for her. He showed her a silver flask and then slipped it into her left pocket. 

“It’s vodka so he shouldn’t smell it on you if you make sure to drink some water and chew a few mints before going upstairs.” Armie said, cupping the side of her neck and grazing a thumb over her check and across her bottom lip. She leaned into his palm, eyes closed. “We don’t want a repeat of last time.” he added and she nodded. 

Again Timmy felt the need to look away when Armie pulled Fraya to him and bent down to kiss her. It was a kiss unlike any other he’s seen between them and made his jaw drop. Armie and Fraya were very affectionate towards one another but they didn’t partake in obvious public displays of affection. He shared a bed with them and he had never seen him kiss her this way. It was greedy and possessive and yet he could feel the visceral protectiveness it was trying to convey as well the need for reassurance in her response. His own jealousy joined the mix and it was a relief when he heard the distinct sound of their lips parting.

He turned just in time to see Armie kiss the tip of her nose and whisper “mine.” This made her chuckle and she nodded again, whispering a soft “always” before kissing his chin.

Fraya’s nerves swirled around Timmy in veils brushing against his check, his temple, his lips. It had been a long time since he had felt someone else's emotions so vividly, as though they were corporal almost. It made him anxious. She kept scratching at her collar bone, leaving red marks visible after every pass and he took her hand to still it. It felt as though she was being held together by stitching that was threatening to give way. He had never seen her like this and it worried him.

Sean drove them to a posh downtown hotel and pulled up to the front entrance, getting out to open Fraya’s door. Timmy exited first and extended a hand toward her to help her out of the car in turn. She laced her fingers with his and didn’t let go.

“The Don is waiting for Ms. Fraya in the penthouse suite. He requests that weapons be surrendered to me prior to going up.” Sean stated and Timmy laughed because surely he had to be kidding. Weapons? Seeing as he didn’t seem to be, Timmy told him he wasn’t carrying. Sean eyed him suspiciously.

“Would you like to search me?” Timmy asked defiantly, squaring his shoulders and straightened his posture so he towered over Sean by a good few inches. He was trying to look imposing and sure of himself. Fraya would almost have believed his bravado if she couldn’t feel his hand shaking in hers. She appreciated that he was trying to play the part for her though.

After a few more seconds of glaring at him, Sean shook his head and provided him with the temporary private elevator code before waving him off.

The hotel lobby was bustling with visitors and event guests who were coming in and out of a side ballroom. There looked to be a wedding going on inside. They made their way unnoticed to the bank of elevators and Timmy pressed the call button of the only carriage that went to the penthouse. They waited with anything but patience and eventually the doors opened and they walked in. Once the doors had closed behind them Fraya turned to Timmy and looked at him intently. 

“Listen to me. When we get up there you have to wait for me outside of the suite.” she informed him and he nodded. Armie had already given him the rundown. Wait outside, don’t engage with the guards at the door, if shit gets out of hand, call him and get her out of there, no matter what you have to do. “What? No! I can handle this guy ok. He likes to get a little rough and he likes to hear women in pain. But I’ll be fine. I can handle him. It’s an act. It’s just roleplay. But he’s not a nice guy Tim and he could hurt you if you over step because you think I’m in trouble. I’m not.” 

“But Armie said,” Timmy began but was quieted by the sight of Fraya taking her off her pink wool trench coat that she handed to him. There was a side of him that was repulsed by the idea of what The Don wanted her dressed as but the other side of him was unable to stop his body from reacting to how she looked in the outfit. 

He tried to argue again but she was ready for him. Before he could even open his mouth, she had closed the distance between them and with her hands on his hips and her head tilted back so that she was looking up at him with doe eyes, she asked him to trust her, lashes fluttering and chest heaving.

“You’re cheating.” he huffed and closed his eyes; the way his hands were pulling at her waist already conceding to her wishes even if he hadn’t verbalized it. 

“Is it working?” she asked with a corner smile, resting her forehead in the space right below the hollow of his throat, as much to center herself as to ensure he complied.

“I guess.” he finally said, pulling her against him with his free arm, her coat draped around the other. “Can we use a code word or something?” he asked and she chuckled.

“You mean like a safeword?” 

“Yeah like if things get out of hand then you scream ‘flamingo’ or something and I’ll come and save you.” he said into her hair and she buried deeper into his chest.

“My knight in shining armor.” she teased but she meant for it to be sweet. Because she was grateful that he wanted to take care of her. But she needed to feed and this is what she had to do to do that. ‘Bodies heal.’ she reminded herself and pulled away from Timmy so he could press the code to the penthouse floor. “Flamingo it is.” She said to reassure him. “If you hear me say flamingo you can come and save me.”

“Are you ready?” Timmy asked, pressing his thumb to the closed door button so that if she wasn’t people in the hallway would see her there.

“Just give me a second,” she said, seeming uncomfortable. The don liked her ready when she arrived, as though she was so turned on by him that the thought alone was making her panties wet. 

Unfortunately for him, this was not the case and as such, she needed to fake it, which was easier said than done given her complete lack of desire for him or what was about to happen. Normally Armie would help her. He would pin her to the elevator wall, slip a hand between her thigh and whisper all the ways he would take care of her when they got home. Sometimes he touched her, something he just left his hand there, warm and applying nothing but pressure with an open palm; either way she would be presented to The Don, just like he wanted her.

This time however, Armie wasn’t there and she was faced with having to take care of this by herself. Feeling a little awkward having Timmy just watch her as she touched herself in the middle of the elevator, she pressed herself against him and whispered into his ear what she was about to do and why. Then, she slipped a hand between their bodies and Timmy tensed immediately, his cock already hardening.

“Do you need me to do anything?” asked, not knowing what to do or what to say, the weight of her against him and the knowledge of what she was doing, sending a wave of want directly to his growing erection. 

“Just don’t move.” she said, sounding all breathy, pressing into his body with hers, her free hand fisting into the fabric at his waist. He could feel her other hand moving between her thighs, the muscles in her forearm grazing and pushing against his dick.

He let her do what she had to do, holding his breath the entire time, mouth agape and staring straight ahead, trying not to bury his nose in her hair or grab her ass with both hands to pull her against him or simply push her hand out of the way so he could slip long fingers inside her to see what she felt like getting wet for him and not The Don.

Eventually her hand stilled and he heard her swallow before she said “thank you.” She hadn’t come. He hadn’t expected her to though he wished she had. She stayed against him a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, her hand still fisted in his shirt, her forehead pressed against his shoulder. When she pulled her fingers from between her legs he felt her wipe them on his t-shirt and his cock twitched. He wondered if it would be enough for his shirt to smell like her. Too soon she pulled away and nodded at him so he would release the close door button. He could feel her anxiety but also her resolve. She was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @jolieprudence on Tumblr. Come and say hi.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy escorts Fraya to her appointment with the Don which does not go as planned. When the situation becomes violent and dangerous, Timmy discovers he can control his powers which he uses to get Fraya out of there. Unfortunately, he might be too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for Non-consensual sex, for iffy-consensual sex, for violence and for near death situation.
> 
> This chapter is not only long but it's heavy. A lot happens, none of it particularly pleasant. In fact most of it isn't but it serves the story and was not done gratuitously.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this anayway.

Timmy waited outside the hotel suite as instructed, micking the other guards stance - shoulders squared, feet a good width apart, left wrist clasped in his right hand in front of him - and though Timmy was taller by an inch or two, the intimidating man had to be almost twice his size in weight and bulk, and he was sneering at him. Ignoring him, TImmy tried to concentrate on what he was hearing but more precisely what he was feeling. 

Fraya had promised to use the word ‘flamingo’ if things got out of hand and he wanted to make sure to hear her if she did; not that he really believed she would. She had been placating him in the elevator earlier, he had felt it, her words reminiscent of someone patting him condescendingly on the cheek. He had also felt that her gratefulness was genuine, however. She simply had had no intention of calling on him for help if she needed it. Therefore he wanted to make sure he was tuned in to how she was feeling. 

It was difficult. He had only recently started feeling again and prior to living with Armie and Fraya, he had tried to ignore everybody else's feelings as much as possible. He’d almost killed himself with drugs to avoid it. But something Fraya had said to him on a night Armie had been out had left him wondering if maybe his grand-mother had been right and he was special. That maybe he had a gift. Fraya had wanted to try something. She had called it spatial empathy, stating that psychologists theorized that what someone was feeling could be felt in the space around them and other people could pick up on it if they were tuned in enough. At the time, showing her what he knew he could do had scared him and he’d avoided the game. But since that day, he had been practicing; quietly and unbeknownst to anyone. 

He closed his eyes and concentrated. It was hard getting around the guard at the door, his dislike and mistrust of Timmy was pungent and smelled like garbage left festering in the sun. Timmy scrunched his nose against the feeling and tried again. 

He thought of Fraya, concentrating on the familiarity of her smell. Feelings had smells and sounds as well as sensations and he tried to recognize Fraya in the variety of emotions he was sensing. There was a lot to sift through. There had to be more than just Fraya and the Don in the suite and this made him uneasy. He didn’t like thinking about what she was being asked to do for the Don, nevermind a room full of what he hoped for her sake were only spectators.

He had been trying for a long time without much success when suddenly he felt fear and he knew it was hers. It trickled over him like snow melting down his back at first and became increasingly more unpleasant as though the snow had been replaced by gushes of freezing water. But there was something else mixing in with it. Anticipation maybe? It smelled like ozone and petrichor.

‘Say flamingo Fraya, please say flamingo,’ he silently begged, waiting, barely breathing, eyes fixed on the guard at the door, trying to figure out how he would get past him if she did scream. He was getting fidgety. This was making the guard nervous and he unclasped his hands, squaring his shoulders and loosening his neck as though he was preparing for a fight.

Timmy felt nauseous and he wasn’t sure if it was his own or Fraya’s anxiety that made him want to retch. He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the time. It was a little over 9pm. Armie wouldn’t be done for a few hours with the book club ladies. He was debating calling anyway - debating because what would he say? ‘Please come, I think Fraya’s in trouble because I can feel her fear?’ - when a scream, piercing and stringent followed by more fear that practically punched him in the gut, snapped him into action.

He rushed toward the door but was stopped by the guard who held him in place with a firm grip on his arms. He had barely moved back a step despite Timmy’s momentum and the surprise of his attack. 

“I need to get in there.” he said, struggling to get free of the huge man’s grip.

“Nobody goes in until the Don is done with her.” the guard informed him, his grip not lessening. 

There was another scream and Timmy flailed, legs kicking in all directions hoping to hit a target hard enough that the pain would force the brute holding him to let go and then he would be able to get inside. He may not be as strong but he was fast. His boot hit the man’s shin and he grunted in anger. He let go of one of Timmy’s upper arms and clocked him right in the jaw, his neck cracking loudly as his head snapped backwards and to the left. The impact ripped him out of the guards hold and he fell to the floor, his ass hitting the carpet covered concrete hard which knocked the wind out of him. 

“Stay down.” The guard warned but Timmy shook it off and stood, rushing the door again, only this time he had revised his approach, coming in low and feigning left before swerving right and he was able to ram the guy against the door hard, his head thudding loudly against wood. Timmy followed with two quick knees to the stomach and the guy crumpled. Two more knee jabs, this time to the head and the guy was incapacitated; at least momentarily.

Timmy stared at him for a second, surprised he’d managed that, and then stepped over him and ran into the suite, unfortunately not getting very far. The racket had attracted the attention of three more lackeys inside. He stopped in his tracks and surveyed the space around him, his mind reeling as he assessed his options. The three lackeys were looking at him as though they weren’t sure what to expect but ready to pounce. 

“Where is she?” Timmy demanded, not giving them time to answer before he was rushing the only other room in the suite.

Again he was stopped and within seconds Timmy was restrained by a guard on each arm and he was gasping for breath after the third guard had punched him in the face and then in the stomach. He tried to get free, everything hurt but he didn’t care, adrenaline anesthetizing him enough to still be able to move but he was outnumbered and outmatched and eventually he slumped, exhausted. 

“Hold him.” the guard who had just punched him said and went to check on the guard wobbling in from the hall, his face already swelling from Timmy’s attack, blood gushing from his nose. “What the fuck did he do to you?” 

“Didn’t get too far did you?” the outside guard said walking over to Timmy as he wiped his bloody nose on the back of his hand, painting his cheek red. “When I tell you to stay down, stay down,” he advised and then Timmy was hit in the ribs.

He was starting to lose control. The red haze was beginning to cloud his vision and he fought against it. Now wasn’t the time to blank out. Fraya needed him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the tension in the air vibrate around him and he willed it to stay at bay. She screamed again and he fought against the stronghold of the goons restraining him. There was something new mingling with her fear now. It was an exemption of anger. Up until then she had been angry as well as scared. It had been a reassuring presence in his chest. The lack of it worried him.

“Let her go.” he demanded through clenched teeth, trying to wrestle out of this captors’ grasps, the nothingness that normally protected him when he lost control having morphed into something new. An awareness that he didn’t need to be protected; that he was the something to be protected from. And although that was a frightening feeling, it was also a powerful one.

“Ah look at the little boy being all protective. Does Armie know his little watchdog has the hots for his sister? You know, we watched you in the elevator earlier. I wonder how Armie would feel about what went on in there.” one of the goons jeered and Timmy’s stomach sank for a minute. He wanted to deny it, to say that Fraya had only needed to do what she did because she was so disgusted with the Don that she couldn't get wet for him without assistance. He also wanted to tell them that they were going to regret what they were doing but before he could, Fraya screamed again and despite the door to the room being closed he heard the sound of a hard slap that shut her up. He fought to free himself even harder and they tightened their grip on him. “Relax. When the Don’s done splitting her open, we’ll let you go in there and untie her. Actually, maybe we’ll take a turn first, and make you watch. Then, if she can still walk, you can take her home.”

A rage like he had rarely felt began to bubble low in his belly but it was rising fast. The red haze steadied him and he stilled, allowing it and the anger to fuse. This was also new. The red haze normally washed over him like he was sinking into a pool and protected him by blinding him to the outside world. He knew things happened when he was in this state, but he had never really associated them to himself. He had a weird sort of detachment to them. Now he knew he had been the cause of the ‘accidents’ that befell people who tried to hurt him too badly, and it was oddly reassuring. He could control the haze; he could control himself.

“There’s a good puppy,” another goon mocked once Timmy had stopped struggling and he patted his lowered head condescendingly. Timmy chuckled, eyes on the floor, his body now relaxed. 

“What’s so funny?” the front door guard asked, stepping closer in front of him sneering, comfortable in his assurance that Timmy had been contained.

“You.” Timmy stated, voice low and steady, and he looked up at the guard, his sweet smile inconsistent with the chasms that were now his eyes; pupils, irises and sclera having turned an inky opaque black. The sight startled the guard and he took a step back, fear immediate on his face. “This is gonna hurt,” Timmy asserted and smiled again.

The guard looked confused for a second and then his hands were over his ears as though he were trying to protect them from a loud sound. His face was contorted in pain and his mouth was open in a silent scream. Timmy felt the two goons holding onto him tense but that was ok, he would deal with them after. Blood bagan to pour out of the guards eyes and his already bloody nose, slowly at first and then rapidly, and he crumpled to the floor; the carpet quickly getting dark with stains. When he moved his hands from his ears to his stomach, it became obvious something was going on internally as well. He was laying on his side on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped around his middle, rocking shakily against what looked to be insurmountable pain when he started to cough up blood. It bubbled and sputtered in gushes on the carpet, thick and mucousy laced with vomit and bile. Eventually his face calmed and stilled and the rocking stopped. He looked lifeless.

“What the fuck?” the goon on Timmy’s left arm said and looked at him, equally shocked by the sight of him now. He let go of Timmy’s arm but didn’t move otherwise; he was fear-frozen. 

Reflexively, the lackey on the right had tightened his hold on Timmy’s other side. Timmy turned his head toward him slowly, still smiling, eyes still black and the goon gasped in horror. He tried to let go but couldn’t. His muscles seemed to be locked in place. Then bones began to snap. First a finger, then another. Then the goon’s wrist cracked and it went limp. By the time the bones in his forearm popped loudly his entire body was shaking violently and despite trying, he couldn’t scream either. His body contorted in weird ways; a knee breaking, a vertebrae twisting and finally he dropped to the floor when his neck clicked and whipped to the side as though someone had broken it.

“Fuck this shit,” the guy who had previously been holding Timmy said, no longer frozen in place and he attempted to run, not making it more than a few strides. Timmy, with a flick of his chin, had sent him flying toward the ceiling and kept him hovering 8 or 9 feet in the air, as though held up by an invisible force. Before he could scream, Timmy flicked his chin down and the guy slammed into the carpet with such force that the air in his body whoosed out and then he was unconscious.

Timmy looked around. There had been a third lackey in the suite bringing the total to four and yet there were only three bodies. Where had the fourth one gone? He turned on his heels to look behind him and he saw the guy running toward the elevators. A sneer curled his upper lip and he considered going after him but an emotion so obviously Fraya’s redirected his attention to the closed bedroom door.

The emotion Faya was feeling was acceptance. It felt like a release of tension in the body but instead of being pleasurable it was numbing. He understood this feeling well. He was familiar with it. It was self-protection and mindset. It was detachment from the now and projection into nothingness to not feel what was being done to you. It was how your mind survived what your body couldn’t escape; it was how he had gotten through many nights at June’s or worse, in dirty motels or alleys. The memories his empathic connection to Fraya elicited, revolted him. The fact that Fraya was experiencing these feelings infuriated him and the red haze buzzed like angry bees inside him. He walked to the room and lifted his hand, palm facing outward and he made a gentle pushing motion mid-air. The door opened quietly. 

The scene that greeted him was far beyond anything he had imagined. They were on the bed and there was blood; a lot of it. Fraya had her hands tied with zip ties that cut deep into her flesh and her arms were pulled up above her head, held in place by a nylon rope that looped around her neck twice before passing through the plastic restraint and disappearing under the headboard. Her outfit was ripped and bloodied, hanging off her in rags. The Don was between her thighs, naked and he was thrusting into her violently, a hand around her throat, the other gripping at her left breast, fingers already leaving bruises and broken skin. He looked nothing like Timmy had imagined. When Fraya and Armie had started talking about ‘The Don’, he had envisioned someone short and fat, old. Kind of a mix between Marlon Brando in The Godfather and Joe Pesci in The Irishman. He expected a dirty old man with a little girl fetish. But the Don was none of those things. He was Andy Garcia not Brando. And clearly his particular brand of kink had more to do with pain than little girls.

For a moment, he tuned into the Don and what he felt made Timmy’s stomach turn. It was entitlement, vanity, conceit, greed and worse, pleasure at the pain he was inflicting, the fear it garnered, the incapacitation it caused. He basqued in the power of holding her life in his hands and Timmy felt no regard in him for it. He was going to kill her. 

Panic tightened his chest, her’s not his, and he realised it wasn’t fear of what was being done to her but rather that Timmy was there. The Don hadn’t noticed him, too busy chasing his release to pay attention to anything else, but Fraya’s head had fallen to the side and her eyes were now wide, looking right at him. 

He felt the haze electrify his nerve endings. His entire body felt as though static electricity was coursing through it and his fingertips crackled with invisible sparks. His ears were buzzing with static that sounded like an old TV left open with no cable signal and around him the lights flickered. 

Timmy knew the Don was talking as he defiled Fraya’s body, his words a distant nagging in his brain but he ignored them. What he was saying was vile and filthy and he was saying it to make her feel small and worthless which in turn made him feel big and strong. So it didn’t matter what he was saying specifically. Timmy already hated him for it and he was going to make him pay. The air in the room began to stir and he felt the energy vibrate through his body ready to be released. Not only was he going to make him pay, he was going to enjoy it. 

But then something distracted him. It was as though there was someone else in the room. No not someone, something. Something dark. Something… feral. Something that had been caged and was finally being allowed out. And the cage was Fraya. The electricity flowing through him drained into the ground and he froze. Her skin looked like it was crawling, morphing. Her coloring lost its usual pink glow and turned a shimmery silver; long ropey blackish-blue veins streaked her arms and her neck, curling up her chin and her cheeks. Her eyes were different. It was as though they were no longer hers. They were rounder, larger, washed of color and her pupils had disappeared. Even her hair had changed, turning a dark charcoal gray.

The Don was still choking Fraya and pounding into her, calling her a slut and whore and telling her that when he was done with her, there would be nothing left for Armie to put back together. Clearly he wasn’t seeing any change in Fraya as he continued to defile her, slapping her hard and spitting in her face. He was close to orgasm now and words, each more vile than the next were spewing out of him like vomit. The creature beneath him sneered, baring sharp looking teeth and blackened gums. It opened its mouth fully and craned its neck off the mattress as though angling for a kiss, a black forked tongue licking its bottom lip with anticipation of his release.

The mention of Armie sent Timmy reeling. Armie had trusted him to protect Fraya, to keep her safe and get her out there if things got out of hand. And despite his best efforts he had failed. He had allowed the Don to violate her and now something dark and evil had taken hold of her. Armie would be devastated, crushed under the agony of the loss. The meer notion of this caused something inside Timmy to snap. If he couldn’t bring Fraya back to Armie he would at least lay the remains of her desicraters at his feet before dying from the guilt, the self-loathing and the loss he also felt.

He beckoned the haze into action. The air thickened and the static buzzed in his ears again as he felt all his nerve endings fire up and crackle with electricity. The lights flickered and then bulbs began to explode in rapid succession, sending sparks and thin glass fragments into the air. Both the Don and the creature snapped their heads in his direction and suddenly aware of Timmy’s presence, the Don looked startled. The creature just stared, curious. 

A silent question that looked like the beginnings of ‘what are you doing here?’ or ‘who are you?’ got stuck in the Don’s mouth at the sight of Timmy and he scrambled off of Fraya and and away from the bed in terror, standing naked in front of the bay windows. 

The Don’s reaction pleased Timmy and his lips curled in a smile that he knew must have been terrifying because at the moment, there was nothing in him but acrid and bitter satisfaction. Things around them began to shatter. The bedside lamps, the vase on the side table by the couch, the mirror above the dresser, the tv in the cupboard and then the windows began to vibrate. The Don’s eyes darted from Timmy to the door behind him and then to the lifeless bodies of his guards in the other room. He began to beg. 

“Please don’t hurt me. Whatever you want it’s yours. You want the bitch? Have her. Just please let me go.” he pleaded, looking vulnerable and frightened. 

“I’m going to enjoy making this hurt.” Timmy said and the Don blanched.

The energy around Timmy changed. The air in the room, now thick with electricity and pressure was practically palpable and seemed to pulsate as though it had a heartbeat. He furrowed his brow and concentrated on the window, it throbbed in rhythm with the air and just as it was about to break he heard her.

“Timmy, no.” Fraya said, sounding frail but alive and then she passed out. The creature that had taken over her seemed to have vanished. But it was too late.

Timmy had already directed the blast of energy at the window and it shattered. Exploped was probably more accurate and Timmy dove onto the bed to shield Fraya as best he could, raising energy like a forcefield around them to deflect as much of the blast as he could. 

In the aftermath of the explosion, Timmy looked in the Don's direction and saw his glass riddled body limp and lifeless on the floor. He was either dead or badly injured and they needn’t bother with him anymore. Safe in this knowledge, Timmy allowed the haze to ebb and then disappear.

“Fraya, look at me.” he asked her but she was unresponsive, eyes half closed and her body hot like a fever. “Fraya please, open your eyes.” 

He managed to untie the nylon rope and unwrap it from around her neck but he couldn't get the zip tie off of her bound wrists. He looked around frantically for something to cut it with and finding nothing else, he picked up a rogue shard of glass from the floor and began sawing at the plastic to get her free. He could feel it cutting into his palm but he didn’t stop until the plastic broke. She moaned when he inspected her and pulled two shards of window for her left thigh. Otherwise, she seemed mostly spared by the blast other than a few cuts. Despite this, she was still in pretty rough shape.

“Fraya, come on. I need you to wake up. We have to get out of here, one of the guards got away and someone will have heard the blast. Fraya please, I can’t carry you. I need you to get up.”

Fraya opened her lids and looked at him through glassy, red rimmed eyes. She swallowed hard and winced from the effort of trying to sit up. Timmy helped her to her feet and pulled her arm over his shoulders to support her weight as he half walked and half carried her out of the suite. Her clothes were shredded and bloodied and he had lost her jacket somewhere in the hall when he had rushed the guard to get inside. It felt as though that had been hours ago when only minutes had passed.

As they waited for the elevator, Timmy took off his jacket and helped Fraya put it on, struggling to keep her upright while he did so. It barely covered her ass and he was only able to button the one button around her waist since it was too small on her but she was otherwise naked and bloody, she would be slightly less conspicuous with it on. Once inside the carriage he fished through his jean pockets, relieved that he hadn’t lost his cellphone in the assault. He found Armie’s contact quickly and hit the call button.

“Fucking pick up Armie.” he practically screamed into the receiver and the sound made Fraya jump next to him. He tightened his arm around her waist, struggling under her weight against his side. She was barely holding herself up.

“What’s going on?” Armie answered, not bothering with the formality of a greeting, knowing that if Timmy was calling something was wrong. 

“It’s Fraya. The Don, he almost killed her. I barely got to her in time. And then this thing… this… THING…. She turned into this thing… I thought she was dead but then the thing was gone and the Don he’s dead, there were four other guards, I couldn’t get to her and…” Timmy couldn’t get the words out fast enough. He didn’t even think he was making sense.

“Is she ok? Did she feed?” Armie interrupted, an edge to his voice but otherwise sounding calm. The question confused Timmy because what kind of question was that? Timmy was telling him Fraya had almost died and he was worried if she’d eaten? Armie didn’t wait for an answer. “You need to get her out of there. Tim, can you get her out of there?” 

“Yes, we're in the lobby now.” Timmy replied, the elevator doors opening slowly to reveal the ground floor. There were some people waiting to get in as they exited and though they looked at them oddly, they didn’t stop them.

“Get her in a cab and get to the warehouse. Do you hear me? Not the hospital Timmy. The warehouse. Take her home and I’ll be there when you arrive.”

“Ok, yeah. The warehouse. Not the hospital. ” Timmy said, dragging Fraya out of the hotel, grunting breathlessly into the phone which he held to his ear by his shoulder so he could free his hand to hold her arm around his neck for leverage. 

“Hey Timmy,” Armie asked and the sudden gentleness of his tone steadied Timmy a little. “Are you ok?”

“I’m a little banged up but otherwise I’m fine.” Timmy stated, not fine at all but calmer now that he knew they were headed to Armie. It did strike him as odd that Armie hadn’t reacted to Timmy’s explanation of what had happened to Fraya and he had to ask: “Armie, what I saw… the thing that took over Fraya… what was that?”

“Just get her to the warehouse Timmy. I’ll tell you everything you want to know but you get her back here now.”

The cab ride was less than easy. At first the driver didn’t want to take them given Fraya’s state. Timmy had to promise to triple his fare if he accepted the trip and got them to the warehouse quickly. Then, as the car was barreling out of the downtown core, Fraya’s body began to shake violently and she puked all over the backseat. The driver wanted to take them to a hospital and it took a lot of arguing and another promise to double the already tripled fare plus a hundred dollars for a full cleaning to convince him to stay on course.

Timmy found a courtesy water bottle in the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat and took it, holding it up to Fraya’s lips so he could drizzle some into her mouth to clear it out of any residual vomit. He got her to swallow a few sips and then he wet a few tissue papers he found in a box in the same pocket and cleaned her face as best he could.

He was relieved to see Armie waiting for them when the car pulled into the vast empty parking lot at the warehouse. When it stopped in front of him, Armie opened the back door on Fraya’s side and threw $500.00 at the driver telling him to keep the change, before leaning into the chassis and picking Fraya up as though she were Maika, an arm around her back and the other supporting her under her knees, and he quickly carried her into the warehouse.

Once inside, Armie placed Fraya gently on their bed and was finally able to assess the state she was in. Relieved that Armie was there to take over, Timmy’s adrenaline rush was waning and he felt wobbly, the reality of the last hour hitting him hard. He fell back against one of the wardrobes and slipped to the ground, knees pulled up to his chest protectively. So many questions were swimming around in his head he couldn’t stop long enough on one to try and find answers before another popped up. He was in shock. Because of what he had done, because of what he had seen and what had happened to Fraya. 

Armie was talking to Fraya, trying to get her to respond, lifting her back off the bed to look at her from all angles. The blood from her wounds, both those inflicted by the Don and those caused by the window explosion, had coagulated and turned a dark blackish brown, her hair was matted and she looked pale and sickly. 

He had been too late and Timmy held back a sob at the realization. Armie had asked him to protect Fraya and he had failed. He should have insisted more when Armie wanted him to go to the book club and Fraya had refused. But Timmy hadn’t wanted to upset her. He hadn’t wanted her to be angry with him because when she was angry she became cold and distant. And he hated it. He craved her approval and her affection in a way that he couldn't explain.

He and Armie had spent a longtime discussing it the night they had spent together, when Fraya had chosen to sleep in Maika’s room. The night Timmy hadn’t said anything to Armie but he had known she was upset before she’d gone up. He had felt it, even if she was pretending rather convincingly that she wasn’t. He had felt the sadness and the frustration; the loneliness. But he hadn’t said anything. Because he was selfish and he was horny and he wanted Armie to finish what he had started earlier, when he had pressed him against the same wardrobe he was leaning against now and had made him come with his hand down his pants. 

Later that night, they had laid together, Timmy nestled comfortably against Armie’s chest, his hand combing through Timmy’s hair and Armie had explained to him why he didn’t want him going with Fraya. Granted he had been reserved in his depiction of the situation but he had told him the Don was dangerous. And yet still Timmy had assured him they would be fine. That he had encountered characters like the Don on more than one occasion and he knew how to handle them. It was probably the post-coital lull that had allowed Armie to go against his better judgement, but he had agreed. And now people were dead because Timmy wanted to please Fraya. Armie wanted to keep her safe. Timmy wanted to keep her happy. His selfishness had almost killed her and the weight of this knowledge pressed on him like a boulder on his chest.

“Timmy, don’t you dare zone out on me right now.” Armie was hollering from the bed, his voice sounding like it was projecting through a tin can. When Timmy didn’t respond Armie left Fraya’s side and came to crouch next to him. He cupped his chin in one hand and forced his head up from his knees. There was nothing delicate in the way he brushed stray curls out of Timmy’s eyes with his free hand or the grasp on his face. “Look at me. Are you good? I need you right now.”

“Yeah. Ok. Tell me what you need.” Timmy said composing himself. For now, he was going to push all his self-loathing and pain to the back of his mind and do what he could. He would deal with the consequences of his selfishness later.

“I need to know if she fed.” Armie asked and again Timmy thought the question was odd. “Don’t look at me like that Tim. I know you know what I mean. Was she able to feed on the Don?”

“Feed on… what?” Timmy’s mind was refusing to connect the dots. “The thing that took over her tried, I think.”

“Tried?” Armie choked on the word. “You mean she didn’t?” Armie looked defeated suddenly.

“No. The Don, I thought… I thought he had killed Fraya and that thing took over her and I was so angry and…” Timmy tried to explain.

“That wasn’t a thing, Timmy. That WAS Fraya. What you saw, it’s something inside her. It’s part of her. And right now it’s killing her. I don’t have time to explain but I need you to let her feed off you.”

The request hit him like a slap in the face. It shocked him and stunned him and made him feel scared and angry and disgusted all at the same time. What was he asking? Feed off him in what way? Regardless, it couldn’t be good if what he saw when that thing - that thing that was apparently Fraya - was any indication. 

“What? No! It can’t… No.” Timmy said, sounding panicked.

“She’s gonna die if we don’t do something.” Armie stated with such vehemence that Timmy had no doubt it was not an exaggeration. “Please. I need you to help me save her.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Timmy questioned and it had come out angry. Immediately Armie became defensive.

“Don’t you think I would if I could.” He snapped. “She and I are the same. It doesn’t work. We’ve tried.”

“The same?” Timmy balked, this revelation making his stomach turn. How could he not have realized? How had they managed to keep this from him? “You… the same? What are you?” Armie’s shoulders fell almost as though Timmy’s question had hurt him because the way he had said it was full of fear and disgust. 

“We’re Cambions. Half human, half demon. Our mothers were human. Our father, our biological father, is an incubus.” Armie said matter of fact but then his voice turned to pleading again. “Please Timmy, we don’t have time. I promise you I will explain everything after but Fraya needs you right now. I need you. Please.” 

Timmy's mind reeled with the little he knew about incubi. Something about demons that had sex with human in their sleep. He didn’t know a lot about mythology but he knew it was something along those lines. He almost laughed because that was ridiculous. 

“No. That’s impossible.” Timmy asserted, looking over to the bed at an unconscious Fraya, remembering what that thing had looked like and not being able to reconcile it with what he was seeing now.

“It’s not. Think about it, Timmy. Think about what you can do. There are things in this world that can’t be explained simply because our mind refuses to accept what’s right in front of our eyes. Not because it’s not true. We quantify miracles and the power of prayer by calling them coincidences or anomalies. We say our minds are playing tricks on us when we see something scary in the dark and we believe it because the truth is too scary. We’re that something in the dark, Timmy. But then so are you. Please Tim. I’ll explain everything later but right now, Fraya needs you.”

Timmy wanted to argue. He wanted to say ‘i’m not, i’m nothing like that… thing,’ but before the words left his mouth he knew it was a lie. Because he definitely was something to fear. He’d always known it.

“What would I need to do?” he asked, sounding more defeated than he had intended to let transpire.

“You need to have sex with her.” Armie explained, the words catching in his throat as though they were choking him on the way out.

“What the fuck?” Timmy immediately responded, outraged. Not that he hd never thought about having sex with Fraya. Obviously he had. But the fact that Armie ws asking him to do it, when Fraya was unconscious no less, felt wrong on a level he couldn’t even find words for so he simply shook his head adamantly.

“Do you think I like this anymore than you do? Cause I don’t.” Armie replied defensively, looking even more upset than he had been seconds ago if that was possible. “That’s how it works. Incubi, succubi in her case, feed off the human orgasms. There’s a reason they call it ‘la petite mort’. It translates to the little death. It’s because when you come, part of your life force is exerted from your body. Normally it’s reabsorbed but that’s what we feed on.” 

“There’s gotta be something else we can do. Call the doctor. He can give her another adrenaline boost and some stronger anti-virals.” 

“I already called, he’s on his way. But Tim, he’s the one that told me she’s not gonna make it and there’s nothing he can give her now. What you’ve been shooting into her arm the past five days has only been to keep her going until tonight’s appointment. Changing without feeding and then changing back took too much out of her. If she doesn’t feed, she’ll die. The thing inside her, it’s like cancer. It’s taking over her body. And the only thing keeping it from spreading is regular feedings. Once it takes over, she’ll be gone. We’re running out of time. Please.”

Every trace of anger had left Armie’s body in that moment. He looked defeated and scared; small despite his towering height. Timmy’s heart broke and tears welled up in his eyes.

“But I can’t…” He said, shaking his head, throat constricting on the words because the thought of losing her was quickly becoming a reality and it would be his fault… again. “She’s unconscious. I can’t just... She wouldn't want me too. She never wants me to. She…”

“Seriously?” Armie interrupted, ignoring the devastation that had overcome him monetarily, the protector and problem solver in him back in action. “Fuck consent right now. Honestly! I get it Timmy but she doesn’t want to die. Isn’t that consent enough?” 

Timmy didn’t have an answer. Because even if he could justify the thin line they were walking with regard to consent, the truth was he didn’t even think he’d be able to, considering the circumstances and what he’d seen at the hotel earlier. Because he was scared. He was scared of her. Of what she had turned into, what she had looked like and what she would do to him while she fed. 

“For fuck’s sake.” Armie swore, springing to his feet and he pulled Timmy to the bed where he stumbled and fell, stopping himself in time to not fall on top of Fraya. Armie ignored this and roughly pulled Fraya into a sitting position, her head falling backward at an uncomfortable looking angle. He held her up with an arm around her shoulders and with his free hand he began tapping her cheek. “Hey! Wake up. I need you to look at me Fraya. Open your eyes.” Though she didn’t open her eyes, Fraya groaned, showing some sign of consciousness which only made Armie slap her harder. “Please Fraya, come on. I need you to wake up.” Timmy wanted to tell him to slow down, to be gentler but he couldn't find the words.

“Stop.” Fraya moaned more than spoke, but eventually she did open her eyes, halfway and unfocused.

“Good girl. Stay awake, ok? You need to feed. Timmy’s here, tell him it’s ok.” 

“No.” she moaned again, her face more alive now, a faint glow of panic in her features. “No. Not him.” She was fading and Armie shook her.

“Hey! Focus. We’re out of options. If you don’t feed now you will die.” Fraya groaned another ‘no’ and tried to push out of Armie’s arms. “God dammit Fraya, stop fighting this. Please don’t do this to me. If you aren’t going to think of yourself, think of Maika. She’s already lost one mother, don’t ask me to tell her she’s lost another one. She needs you. I need you. We all do.”

This seemed to have hit enough of a nerve for Fraya to hold on to consciousness briefly. Her eyes focused on Armie and for a few seconds she seemed herself again. ‘Please’ Armie mouthed, begging her with his eyes that were now glassy with tears that he could no longer keep in. He looked sad, scared and desperate. When finally she nodded, a faint but clear ‘yes’ just loud enough that Timmy couldn’t argue against it leaving her lips, relief washed over Armie in a wave that Timmy felt drowned under. But she had said yes, and if Timmy could save her, how could he not try?

“Fraya?... Fraya?. No, no, no… stay with me ok. FRAYA?” Armie yelled at her, because Fraya had passed out once more; he was slapping her check so hard that it was turning an angry red against the washed out paleness of her current lifeless complexion. Armie was panicking again and the sight and the feeling of it kicked Timmy’s own protectiveness in gear, masking his repulsion at what he was being asked to do. 

“Stop.” Timmy said softly, placing a calming but firm arm on Armie’s forearm to still him. “It’s ok. She’ll be ok. I’ll do it. I let her feed off me. Just tell me exactly what I need to do.” 

It wasn’t complicated. Have sex, orgasm, and the succubus would come out to on it’s own to feed. Timmy had suggested masterbating next to her, which was still fucking awkard but at least not invasive but Armie had shook his head stating that that wouldn’t awaken the demon inside; either Fraya had to make it emerge or it had to be triggered. And because Fraya was unconscious, triggering it was the only solution. The only way to trigger a Succubus was through intercourse. It wouldn’t hurt when it fed off of Timmy, Armie had tried to reassure him. His orgasm would just feel stronger, more drawn out… draining. When cambions fed, their victims had no idea it was happening. To them, it simply felt like they had had a particularly strong orgasm and they would feel exhausted for a few hours after. He’d be fine.

“Ok. Then I need you to go.” Timmy had said, slipping his hands between his thighs because he had started to shake and he didn’t want Armie to notice. When Armie started arguing, he added: “I can’t do this with you here, with you watching me. Please Armie, you said so yourself, we’re running out of time. I need you to go outside, or at least not be right in this space.”

Eventually Armie had agreed. At first there were protests that they didn’t have time for; protests during which Armie gesticulated profusely and yelled and refused because there was no way he was leaving her side. Timmy had sat through them all silently, waiting for him to get it out, for him to finally concede because he had no choice. Timmy would do what he had to do to save Fraya but he couldn't do it with an audience and Armie knew that. So he stepped out of the room, making his way to the living room on the other side of the wardrobe partition. Timmy could hear him pacing the warehouse and he closed his eyes against the sound, trying to ignore the fact that if he could hear Armie, then Armie would hear him; but he knew there was no way he’d convince Armie to leave the warehouse completely and anway, they didn’t have time for another argument. 

Timmy sat on the bed next to Fraya with his back to her, quickly unlacing his combat boots before toeing them off. He wondered if he should take his clothes off too. It felt weird not to; but then it also felt wrong to do it so he didn’t. He turned to look at Fraya and her nudity upset him. Armie had taken Timmy’s jacket and her ripped and tattered dress off of her earlier to inspect the wounds on her back and she’d been left like that in the panic, no care for the fact that she was completely naked other than the sheer balconette bra she’d worn at the Don’s behest. 

Timmy took the knitted throw blanket Fraya kept on the bed and covered her with it, laying it over her shoulders and pulling it down to mid thigh before climbing on the bed and settling on his knees between her legs so he could undo his jeans and push them and his underwear down only as much as strictly necessary. He lay over her, making sure to support most of his weight on his outstretched arm and with his free hand, he gently stroked her cheek.

‘’Aya, please wake up.’’ he whispered, not actually expecting her to but really wishing she would because he wanted to hear her say yes once more to be sure and if she wouldn’t, then to at least tell her that he loved her. That he was doing this because he loved her; because he loved them and they needed her. Instead he told her that it was going to be alright. That he would take care of her and he’d be quick. When she didn’t so much as stir he sighed and lowered himself completely over her, his lips brushing her cheek in a chaste kiss before he whispered: ‘’I’m sorry.’’

Timmy had become incredibly good at compartmentalizing over the years. It was a defense mechanism he’d developed in situations that required him to perform sexually even if he didn’t want to, even if he wasn’t aroused by the client who was paying him or the act they wanted him to perform. He’d found a way of getting in his head, of thinking of things or situations that worked for him and staying there while at the same time being present enough to be aware of his surroundings and interact with the people he was with. 

Despite this, he was finding it difficult to completely remove himself from what was happening, because as much as he tried to think of something unrelated, his mind kept drifting back to Fraya. To the way it felt when she would play with his hair; to how she always smelled floral and clean with just a hint of sex always peering through; and more precisely, to the way she had felt earlier, pressing herself against him in the elevator while she fingered herself to get herself wet. Timmy ignored the why and just focused on the way the muscles in her arm had rubbed against his cock and made it strain in his jeans. He remembered the way her breath had gone ragged and how it had felt warm and humid on his neck. He remembered how it had felt when she had moved against him, lifting herself up on her tiptoes so her lips could be close to the hollow at his throat and how he had felt when her tongue had grazed his skin when she licked her lips.

And then he allowed his mind to drift to what he wished had happened rather than what did. He imagined himself, flipping their positions so she was the one now pinned against the elevator wall. He thought about what it would have felt like to remove her fingers and replace them with his own. 

He made real in his mind the way she would have moaned at the intrusion and canted her hips even closer, the way she would have undone his jeans in response, slipping slick fingers into his boxers and wrapping them around his shaft. He would have kissed her then, the way he’d been wanting to kiss her since that day at Maggie’s. Because the way she had looked at him when she’d first seen him in his new clothes had made him hard instantly. He imagined how she would have sounded asking him to fuck her. No, begged him to fuck her. And how it would feel… how it actually felt… to be inside her now.

Timmy kept his eyes closed while he fucked her. Conscious enough to try and keep the noise to a minimum but staying lost in the fantasy enough to keep going. Which is why it took him a moment to realize that the way Fraya was moving under him wasn’t a figment of his imagination. Startled, he opened his eyes and what he saw looking back at him made his blood run cold. Dead, washed out eyes and a sneering black smile greeted and he quickly snapped his eyes shut once more, forcing himself to ignore it. He pushed deeper into his imagination, thinking about how she would undoubtedly blush if he told her how good she felt on his cock because as crass as she could be when Armie was around, she became shy when it was just the two of them and he loved it. 

As he felt his orgasm build like a warmth starting in his belly that was quickly radiating through his groin, he felt a sudden need to kiss her. It was visceral, primal almost. His body had taken over at this point and he struggled to differentiate between reality and fantasy. He wrapped a hand around her throat, because he wanted to feel the sounds she made as much as hear them, while his other hand dug into the flesh of her thigh which he had brought to his waist so he could push into her harder.

Armie was wrong when he had said coming would only feel stronger than a normal orgasm. Maybe it was because he was different. He could see the succubus inside her so maybe he could feel it too. His eyes flashed open when it happened because the force of it surprised him. That part Armie had been right about. When his orgasm hit, he felt as though he was exploding inside her, hard and fast making his entire body shudder violently. What Armie hadn’t said would happen was that Timmy would feel the life force drain out of him. He could feel it leaving his body and he was getting weaker by the second. It scared him. 

‘Fraya stop.’ he begged silently, trying to pull away, arms flailing and scrambling to get purchase with his knees but he was unable to break the bond. The Succubus had latched onto him and he had drained so quickly he was too weak to fight. ‘Armie!’ he thought, regretting having told him to leave the room. He could feel himself slipping away. 

The next thing he knew he was on the floor and the red haze was slowly evaporating. His head hurt and he vaguely remembered it hitting the floor when he did, though he wasn’t too sure how it happened. Armie had run into the room and stopped abruptly upon seeing him lying there holding his head, wincing.

‘’I’m fine. Go check on Fraya.” Timmy said weakly, waving Armie off. The tone of his voice not inaccurately reflecting the level of panic and distress that was reeking havoc inside his chest. Bad things happened when the red haze took over. And he had no idea what he'd done. “She fed but I don’t know if she got enough. I blanked out. Please tell me she’s ok.” 

While Armie ran to Fraya's side, Timmy sat up and then stood so he could pull up his pants. ‘Bad idea,’ he thought given how shaky and light headed he felt and suddenly his stomach was in his throat. He half ran, half stumbled to the bathroom and reached the toilet just in time to vomit. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, with his cheek pressed to the cold toilet seat waiting for the next wave to hit as he weaved in and out of consciousness. The next time he opened his eyes and managed to keep them open, he was in bed and the pain in his head was milder. 

“Fraya!” he said, trying to sit up but strong hands kept him down.

“Hey!” Armie said softly, brushing the back of his hand over Timmy’s cheek. “You need to rest. You hit your head really hard and the doctor is afraid you might have a concussion.” 

“Calmati Tesoro,” a familiar voice said when Timmy tried to sit up again. It was the doctor. “Fraya is right here and she is going to be fine.”

Timmy turned his head and realized Fraya was in bed next to him and though she appeared to be asleep, she looked much better. She had been cleaned and her complexion had regained its pretty pink hue. She had been changed into one of Armie's shirts - one of the one’s she always slept in - and had been tucked in under the blankets with just her left arm left uncovered. She had tubes coming out from the crook of her elbow going into an IV bag that was hung up by one of those 3M adhesive hooks on the headboard. That’s when he noticed that there was a second bag hanging next to it and he followed the tubes that led into his own arm. He ignored it.

“Is she sleeping?” Timmy asked, confused, because even if she looked better, she still looked unconscious, not just sleeping.

“You can say that.” The doctor said cryptically. “Our bella has sustained a very traumatic shock to her system. The darkness inside her almost took over her tonight and the effort it required of her body to fight it was enorme. Then when you used your powers to stop the beast inside her from taking too much of you, the magical blast knocked her out. It will take a few days for her body to recover and for the effects of the magic to wear off.” 

“I did this to her?” Timmy’s voice was strangled and tears were prickling in his eyes. It was too much. How could he keep hurting her like this? Suddenly the pain in his head was back because he was trying to get up again, having no regard for the tubes and the needle in his arm.

“No.” Armie said, stopping him, forcing him back down against the mattress with both hands on his shoulders. “You saved her Timmy. She’s going to be ok. Please rest, you both just need to rest.”

Timmy wasn’t listening though. Images for the last few hours were swirling about in his head and he couldn’t make any sense of them. Or these powers that he had always known he had but ignored. Well he couldn’t ignore them anymore. And he couldn’t ignore Armie and Fraya and what he now knew they were. What he had had to do to save her. It was all a jumbled mess and he wanted to run away from it as fast as he could. Do anything, TAKE anything to forget all of it.

“Come now Piccino. I will just give you a little something to help you sleep, yes? In the morning you will feel better and Armie can tell you everything that needs to be said.” the doctor was saying while he was injecting a yellow liquid from a syringe into his IV bag. The doctor's words had sounded like a warning to Armie he thought, or maybe it was simply some valiant advice. But either way, Armie was going to have to start talking. Because Timmy had lots of questions and they needed answering.

The last thing Timmy saw before his eyes closed was Armie, tucking him back under the comforter and brushing his curls out of his face. 

“Thank you.” Timmy thought he heard Armie say but his eyes were already closed and the words had sounded muffled. Then there was blissful nothingness around him, not unlike when the red haze enveloped him, and he allowed oblivion to take him.


	12. ChapterTwelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy goes in search of the answers he so desperately needs. With Fraya still unconscious, Armie, Timmy and Maika try to find a way to keep going while to wait for her to wake up... wondering if she ever will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me ages to get through. Not because i found the content difficult per se but things in my personal life left me with little inspiration and no motivation. The result of this is a very choppy chapter that wasn't written to the best of my ability but it's the best I have right now. I hope you can enjoy it anyway. Even if the writing itself is lacking, the plot points are in line with what I needed to happen in this chapter.

[ ](https://ibb.co/gg8vdZs)

When Timmy woke up again, it was day. Early still, judging by the muted way the light streamed in from the windows and the eerie quiet that filled the space. He and Fraya were alone in bed, laying side by side the way they had been the night before, arms still connected to the tubes that ran from their inner-arms to IV bags hung on the headboard. Timmy reached a hand across the empty space of the bed until he reached her, squeezing her fingers gently. No response. He tried again, this time shaking her hand a little. Still nothing. For a brief second he was flooded with panic. Was she dead? Had he been too late? Had it all been for nothing? But then the warmth of her fingers against his reassured him. He moved from her hand to her wrist, circling it so he could press two fingers against her pulse point, relieved to feel it beat strong and steady. 

“Fraya?” he said softly, hoping to wake her but still she didn’t respond. She didn’t even stir. 

Sitting up, he tried again but her name caught in his throat when he got a good look at her, and his stomach dropped. Though her color had returned, the gray tinge of near death no longer apparent in her cheeks, the little of her skin he could see was a canvas of blues, deep purples and dark reds. Her throat being the worst for wear, clear imprints of the Don’s fingers showing up as almost black bruises. Her arms were covered in cuts and contusions and her right cheek was red and swollen from having been slapped repeatedly. 

Timmy was familiar with these types of injuries because he had been on the receiving end of them often enough. His heart ached from the pain and guilt of it all. For not having been able to get to her in time; for having stopped her before she could feed on the Don; for having to force her to feed off of him instead, and what he had to do to make that happen. 

“Fraya, please?” He tried again. Still nothing. 

Tears stung his eyes and he fought to prevent them, knowing if he allowed them to flow he’d be incapable of making them stop. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. He could do that after. After he talked to Armie. After he got answers. He pushed against the unwelcome feelings until they were nothing but blunt edges and soft pinches in his heart, and once he was satisfied he would be able to face Armie without falling apart, he got out of bed.

Peeling away the tape that held the IV needle in his arm, not caring that it hurt, he used the pain as an anchor to help him stay focused on what he needed to do. He removed the tubes and pressed his thumb against he hole the needle left behind to stop it from bleeding, and he made his way into the living room, the cold hardness of the epoxied concrete floor chilling his bare feet. He used that as well, hanging on to every sensation, using it all to stop the anxiety from surfacing. Both the living room and the kitchen were empty.

“Armie?” he called softly, too softly for anyone to hear and yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak louder, as though the sound echoing through the empty space would somehow hurt Fraya further. 

He looked up to Maika’s room. The door was open and the lights were off. He wondered if maybe Armie would have gone to sleep in her bed, but then thought better of it because given the size of him, the oversized couch was probably more comfortable than a twin bed. 

‘He wouldn’t have just gone out, would he?’ he thought anxiously. ‘Left us attached to IV bags with no note or anything?,’ the second thought emerging in his mind with sudden anger. No, there was nothing sudden about it he realized. He had woken up angry. Confused and angry. The guilt of what had happened the night prior had simply overtaken the anger. But the thought that Armie might have just left them, left HER, made his anger resurface.

Immediately he chastised himself for the thought, but still Timmy headed in the direction of the reception area to make sure Armie’s car was still in the parking lot. He was both surprised and relieved when he found Armie asleep at the reception desk he used in lieu of a private office, his cheek resting against his left forearm, the light from the computer's bouncing screensaver illuminating his face and making shadows dance across his skin, his right hand still on the mouse. His eyes were puffy, his cheeks red and crusted with dried tears and his usual five-o-clock shadow had grown to a messy scruff. 

Timmy felt his anger recede. He hadn’t expected to find him in this state; but of course he would be. He looked fragile, broken really, and for a fleeting moment Timmy was reminded of Peter Pan’s lost boys; tough and strong on the outside but otherwise lost without Wendy to take care of them. Add that to the list of things he felt guilty for.

Armie practically jumped out of his skin when Timmy gently brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, the computer mouse he’d been holding flying to the ground and the office chair rolling backward brusquely as he stood.

“What’s wrong? Is it Fraya? What happened?” he asked, eyes wild, darting all over Timmy’s face and body, looking for signs of distress. Timmy had barely managed to say that he was alright but that there had been no change in Fraya’s condition before Armie was grabbing his arm. “You’re bleeding!” he stated with a furrowed brow, pressing his thumb over the inside of Timmy’s elbow.

“Ow!” Timmy winced. He mustn't have applied enough pressure on the needle mark when he’d pulled out the IV and now, along with a thin rivulet of blood that had sluiced down his forearm and dried, a bruise that had started to form there was turning a pale lilac color from the pressure. 

“Why did you take the IV out? You hurt yourself.” Armie reprimanded authoritatively, angrily even, all traces of the little-boy-lost gone. 

Timmy wanted to get angry right back. He should be angry, he told himself. He should want to pull his arm from Armie’s warm strong hand and tell him he could take care of himself. That it was yesterday he had needed him to take care of him, not now. That what he needed now was answers. He wanted an explanation for what they were, what he’d seen, what he’d had to do. For the briefest of moments he fantasized about dragging him to Fraya’s bedside and making him look at her, really look at her, all the cuts and the bruises and the strangulation marks she now bore and saying something dramatic like ‘LOOK WHAT YOU DID. THIS IS YOUR FAULT. HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?’

But he couldn’t do it. Because it wasn’t Armie’s fault. It was his and he knew that. So instead he allowed Armie to pull him to the living room where he sat on the couch and waited for Armie to get the first aid kit from the kitchen. 

Kneeling on the floor between Timmy’s knees, Armie cleaned the blood from his forearm with an alcohol wipe and then used a clean swab to dab gently at the crook of his elbow. Once he was satisfied that the area was properly clean, Armie surgical-taped a folded cotton pad in place and then bent Timmy’s arm so his wrist was close to his shoulder, instructing him to hold the position for a few minutes in order to apply pressure where the puncture mark was. 

“We should change your other bandages while we’re at it.” Armie said and immediately got to work. 

Timmy hadn’t even realized how badly he was hurt before Armie started removing gauze, cleaning wounds, and applying new bandages. He had been aware of the cut in his palm of course; he had cut himself pretty badly using a shard of broken glass to cut Fraya out of the zip ties the Don had used to tie her to the bed. But he was surprised to see the stitches the doctor had put in place when Armie removed the bandage on his hand to replace it. He had also been aware of the bump on his head, the swollen lump still very tender. He couldn’t remember hitting the cement floor when the red haze had taken him over while Fraya fed on him, but he certainly remembered the headache he’d woken up with last night, the remnants of which still lingered in the back of his skull. 

What he wasn’t aware of were all the shallow cuts and scratches he’d sustained from the exploding window. Apparently the ward he thought he’d thrown up to shield himself and Fraya from the blast hadn’t been all that effective. His back and sides were riddled with bandages and liquid stitches, and now that he was aware of them, they hurt.

Armie was doing his best to be gentle, but the tape tugged at his skin and the alcohol wipes stung. Most of his wounds were superficial though, and the pain was tolerable. The same could not quite be said of the cut in his hand. The liquid antiseptic Armie had to pour over it burned so much it almost took his breath away.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Armie tried to soothe, looking pained himself for having to hurt Timmy. 

Timmy watched Armie work, his long fingers adept and tender as they cleaned the ugly gash, and then he blew on his palm to soothe the burn and dry his skin before he applied an antibiotic ointment and replaced the bandage. Once he was done, Armie folded Timmy’s fingers over the bandage and kissed his knuckles, lingering just a little longer than necessary, as though he were centering himself before he stood. 

Timmy watched silently while Armie put away the first aid supplies and gathered the soiled bandages to dispose of them. He watched as Armie washed his hands, dried them on a dish towel, and then came back to the living room with a solemn look on his face. And then he watched as Armie tried to figure out where to start or even what to say. He could feel Armie’s discomfort so palpably, every empathic bone in his body tingled with the sensation of it.

“Timmy, I…” Armie began and then stopped, his mouth opening and then closing again because the words wouldn’t come. He knew what he had to say, what Timmy needed to hear, but he couldn’t seem to do it because he was scared. Scared of losing him. Scared that the truth would be too much for him to handle. And terrified that if he lost him, he would also lose Fraya. 

Armie’s fear hit Timmy the way he imagined the onset of a heart attack would feel; a tightening in his chest, the pain radiating across it in a taut band, and for the first time it was almost as though he could not only feel the emotion but also the reason behind it. It made his heart ache and suddenly the anger he had been keeping at bay since he found Armie asleep at the desk fully dissipated. The tension he hadn’t realized he had been holding in his body released and he was on his feet, pulling Armie into his arms.

“We’re going to talk,” he said, holding Armie tightly, standing on his tiptoes so he could press his face into the crook of Armie’s neck while Armie clung to him almost desperately. “But right now I just want to be in your arms.”

Armie tightened his hold and eventually he sat on the couch, pulling Timmy onto his lap where he curled up and allowed himself to be cradled in Armie’s embrace. For a long time they just sat together, the quiet enveloping them as though it was a thick blanket, keeping them protected from the figurative cold Timmy feared would come once they laid it all on the table. 

“Thank you,” Armie said after a long while, the words popping the protective bubble they’d been in since they’d settled on the couch. 

Timmy smiled, though the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes. He’d heard the genuine gratitude in Armie’s voice and the unspoken pleading for forgiveness in the desperateness he was feeling, but still the words stung, pinched at Timmy’s heart and made his guilt and anger resurface because Armie’s thank you was meant for what Timmy had done to save Fraya, and that shouldn’t be something for which he received thanks. Trying to hold on to the protection of the bubble they’d built around them for just a few more seconds, Timmy delicately brushed his lips over Armie’s, their foreheads pressed together. Armie’s breath was warm against his lips and it smelled sweet like bourbon. He’d been drinking. Timmy brushed at the dried tears on Armie’s cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and he felt the grittiness of the salt against his skin. 

Taking a deep breath, which he then exhaled slowly and shakily, Timmy extracted himself from Armie’s lap and sat a few feet away, facing him. He felt very cold now that he was no longer in Armie’s arms, so he curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He realized that maybe it wasn’t so much the cold he was trying to guard himself against as it was Armie, and what they were about to discuss.

There was a moment of awkward silence and then a kind of false start where they both began to speak at the same time and then stopped abruptly, staring, waiting for the other to go first. Armie smiled stiffly but he sat back and allowed Timmy to begin. 

It took him a few seconds to figure out what to say because now that he had Armie ready to answer his questions, he couldn’t for the life of him remember exactly what he needed to hear. 

“What the fuck, Armie!” he said finally, utter dismay blatant not just on his face but in all his body language. “What happened last night, Armie? Did you know what the Don was going to do to Fraya?” He heard himself ask, his gut reaction apparently to point the finger and assign blame. “I’m sorry… you don’t need to answer that.” He corrected himself immediately, the guilt he felt coming off of Armie adding to his own. 

“I didn’t know.” Armie answered anyway. “I mean, I did but... It had never been this bad. Or maybe she was never this weak before. Normally, he roughed her up a little but then she fed and the bruises would heal quickly. I didn’t know what he would try to do if I wasn’t there. I swear to God I would have never let you go with her if I’d known.” Armie’s voice cracked and he had to stop to breathe. 

Timmy’s guilt had taken another hit upon hearing Armie’s words. Because Armie hadn’t wanted him to go with Fraya in the first place. It was he and Fraya who had convinced Armie to let him go in his place, and now she was practically comatose before because of it. How could Armie even stomach looking at him? 

“The doctor says that she fed in time though, so she’s going to be alright thanks to you.” Armie added, as though he had read Timmy’s mind and wanted to make him feel better. “It’s just going to take a while for the magic from the blast you gave her to wear off. You’re really powerful, you know that?” He said the last part with a bit of an awed chuckle, as though he hadn’t quite expected it to be the case. 

“Magic? I’m not… what are you talking about?” Timmy couldn’t wrap his mind around what Armie was saying. He had to be kidding. Or making fun of him. Because what he was saying was ridiculous. Magic wasn’t real. Being powerful would imply having powers and he didn’t have those. He was in tune with his environment, that was all. Wasn’t it? But as soon as he thought it, he knew he was the one being ridiculous. Normal people couldn’t make plate glass windows explode. People who were just in tune with their environment couldn’t make people’s insides liquify or their bones break just by willing it. Obviously, he wasn’t normal. Obviously he was a thing, just like they were. This took him some time to assimilate. “What am I? Am I like you?” he asked eventually, trying to contain the revulsion he felt at the idea.

“No, not exactly. You’re a witch, Timmy. A really powerful one at that.” Armie said in earnest, a faint but fond smile warming his features. It was almost as though he was proud and Timmy felt immediate pleasure at this, which conflicted with the disgust he felt for himself. 

“A witch? You mean like Harry Potter?” Timmy scoffed at the idea. Now THAT was ridiculous. 

“No, not like Harry Potter. You’re not a wizard.” Armie actually laughed at that. “You’re much more powerful than a wizard. Your powers are something you were born with. Something that was passed down to you by your ancestors. It’s not something you can learn in a book. We aren’t talking about spells to levitate feathers or conjuring love potions here Timmy. What you are is a part of nature. The elements answer to you, you don’t answer to them. And if what you described to me yesterday is true, then Timmy, your powers far exceed those of any witch I’ve ever met.” 

Timmy’s mind was reeling. This made no sense. He knew he was different. He could even go so far as to accept that he could do… things. But being a witch? An actual witch, not like the green skinned, warty nosed caricatures in fairytales and children’s movies... that was insane. The thing was though, that now that Armie was saying it, he knew it was true. Because actually, it made perfect sense. 

“Did you know what I was when you brought me here? Is that why you took care of me?” Timmy asked in a small voice. He was suddenly very ashamed of the state he had been in at that time and couldn’t look Armie in the eye. Despite this he could have sworn he felt Armie hesitate. It was brief but Timmy had felt it in a tensing of his muscles and a straightening of his spine. But before Timmy could hone in on the feeling to figure out why Armie had paused, it was gone.

“Yes, I knew what you were when I brought you here. I know we’ve never talked about that night. How much of it do you remember?” 

Timmy shrugged. He didn’t remember much at all. His first vivid memory was seeing Fraya’s face after she’d given him his first dose of Spasm. He remembered coming down from the orgasmic rush and immediately being soothed by her smile and the warmth in it. He remembered knowing unequivocally that he was safe and she was the reason why he was there. Otherwise he didn’t remember anything going back a few days before that night. He’d been stoned out of his mind for nine days straight at that point, never waiting for the prior dose of whatever drug he could find to wear off before he chased it with the next one. 

Armie sat quietly for a moment, little to no emotion readable on his face, as he attempted to correlate the Timmy from that night to the person he was now. That Timmy had been lost, even to himself. He had been so full of drugs that he didn’t even remember existing. Armie wondered when things had gotten so bad for him that the occasional trick had become selling himself to the lowest bidder if it meant getting a quicker fix. 

When finally he spoke, it was to tell Timmy about what had happened at June’s when he’d found him. By the time Armie got to the part of the story where he had watched Timmy agree to go to the private rooms with three unsavory characters, Timmy wasn’t surprised. He didn’t remember a lot of what he’d done during the worst of his addiction, but he’d been left with enough scars and bruises to imagine. 

Armie described the events that followed, sharing only enough detail to make it clear that the situation had been bad. That the men had been rough with him and unabashedly handsy and that at some point one of them had said something to Timmy that had upset him, which was the point at which they’d been thrown across the room, sent flying through the air in different directions, landing in a puddle of their own liquified insides.

“Once that happened, it was chaos.” Armie continued. “One of the assholes was flung through the chandelier that hung over the foyer and glass went flying everywhere. Some people were wounded by the debris and panic ensued. You’d collapsed on the staircase and I knew that once the frenzy calmed, people would start asking questions, so I got you out of there and brought you back here.” 

“Once I was clean, why didn’t you ask me to leave?” Timmy sounded almost accusatory. He could hear it in his tone and felt the way his face was contorted in a repulsed grimace, only it was himself he was disgusted with, not Armie. It was his own nature he was averse to. Immediately his mind began to swirl with destructive thoughts and his vision began to get that now familiar red tinge. 

‘The only reason they’re allowing you to stay is because you’re dangerous and they don’t want you to hurt anyone.’ His inner voice said. ‘They feel responsible for you. They feel obligated to take care of you. And you repaid them by almost killing Fraya. Nice job, asshole.’

“Because we don’t want you to.” Armie said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, interrupting the auto-berating monologue taking place inside Timmy’s head. When Timmy wouldn’t look at him, Armie stretched across the space that separated them and pressed a finger under his chin, tilting his head up so he was forced to look at him. “Timmy please hear me when I say this. By the time you were healthy, we were the ones who couldn’t let you go. Don’t you know how much we care about you? You belong here Timmy. You feel it don’t you? The connection, it’s practically tangible sometimes. I’ll admit it took me longer than Fraya to feel the full force of it, although she fought it longer than I did. But there’s something there right? The universe wants us together, Timmy. It’s not a coincidence.” Timmy shrugged, his anger and self-doubt fading, but though he desperately wanted to say yes, that he too felt that tether that seemed to connect them all together, he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. “Ok fine.” Armie said sounding mildly exasperated. “You’re a freaking empath Timmy, you have to at least be able to feel how much we love you. I know you do. How much I love you, then? Isn’t that reason enough to want to stay?”

There was such pleading in Armie’s eyes the moment ‘I love you’ left his mouth, that Timmy’s remaining barriers faltered and the force of Armie’s emotions hit him like a tidal wave, sending him straight back into Armie’s lap where he pressed their lips together. The kiss was needy and demanding. It begged for reassurance and for forgiveness and Armie responded immediately with a desperateness of his own. Timmy wrapped his arms around Armie’s neck, the fingers of one hand groping and fisting in his hair while the fingers of the other clenched at the fabric of Armie’s shirt. But almost as quickly as it had happened, Timmy was pulling away and scrambling off of Armie’s thighs and backing away from the couch.

“I’m sorry. I have to go. I need to get out of here.” Timmy said, a look of pained apology pinching the corners of his eyes. He had walked to the reception area and was already slipping on his coat when Armie caught up to him. 

“Wait!” Armie blurted as Timmy began to lace up his boots. “Please don’t leave. Where are you going?” He sounded panicked and the tears were back in his eyes. “Don’t leave, Timmy. Please!” 

Timmy fought the urge to hug him because he knew the moment he did he would give in and he needed to clear his head. He had so many conflicting thoughts and emotions and he needed to sort them all out. What he was; what they were; what Armie had said about the connection Timmy also felt but ignored because it scared him and he thought he had been alone in feeling it. Instead of a hug, Timmy took Armie’s hand in his and squeezed it lightly, to reassure him.

“I have to go, Armie. Just for a little while.” Timmy had tried saying it in such a way that it conveyed that it wasn’t meant to be permanent. “I need to be alone so I can process all this, because I can’t do that here. I can’t shut this fucking empath thing off and it’s muddling everything because i can’t tell if what I’m feeling is you, or if it’s my own emotions. Please Armie, I’ll only be gone a few hours and I’ll come back, I promise.” Eventually Armie agreed and relaxed his grip on Timmy’s hand. He hadn’t even realized how tightly he had been squeezing to try and stop Timmy from leaving. “Can I take the car?” Timmy asked as he was wrapping a scarf around his neck. “I’ll pick up Maika at Lucie’s on the way home.”

Armie was reluctant to agree, not because he didn’t trust Timmy with the car but rather because he thought it would be easier for him to run away and never come back if he had a set of wheels to aid in the escape; but nonetheless he fished the keys out of his coat pocket and handed them to Timmy.

“Thank you.” Timmy said, headed for the door. A gust of frigid air blew in from outside and Armie shivered. “Hey Armie?” Timmy called back before he walked out. “I love you too.” 

The words hit Armie straight in the chest, warming him from the inside out. But before he could say anything back, Timmy was gone.

* * *

Armie stirred at the sound of indistinct chatter coming from the reception hall and he opened his eyes, trying to focus blearily. He didn’t remember having dozed off but obviously he had. He had come to lie with Fraya after Timmy had left, wanting to feel her close even if he was afraid of disturbing her, worried he’d get caught in the tubes and pull them out or twist them. He had stared at the ceiling for a while, too tired to think. He’d laced their fingers together wanting to touch her without getting too close and when he woke up, their hands were still intertwined.

“Est-ce que je vais pouvoir lui parler même si elle fait dodo?’’ He heard Maika asking as the voices became clearer. _‘Will I be able to talk to her even if she’s sleeping?’_

‘’Bien sûr! Elle ne pourra pas te répondre mais elle t’entendra.’’ Timmy answered. _'Of course! She won’t be able to answer you but she’ll hear you.'_

Armie was filled with relief upon hearing his voice. When he’d only heard Maika at first, Armie had worried that maybe Timmy had called Lucie and asked her to bring Maika home before taking off. He wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. 

“FAIT ATTENTION.” Timmy warned as Maika ran into the bedroom, flinging herself at Fraya. _'BE CAREFUL.'_

Armie had lunged in an impressive reactionary show of limberness and speed, catching her mid air and ‘superman-ing’ her over Fraya’s body before falling back on the mattress with maika in his arms. Timmy breathed a sigh of relief, pressing a hand to his forehead. He hadn’t been quick enough to stop Maika, though he’d tried, pouncing forward and grabbing at empty air in front of him. Maika had squealed with delight, not realizing this display of gymnastics and strength was anything other than Armie picking her and wrapping her in a hug which she returned tightly. 

“Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, Detka.” Armie said, kissing her rosy cheeks. _‘Welcome home, Baby.’_

“Is she going to be ok?” Maika asked, after Armie had settled her on his stomach so he could explain to her that she had to be careful with Fraya because of the IV and the bruises that were healing, but only slowly, despite the fact that she’d fed. 

Armie nodded and she seemed satisfied. Timmy wondered in awe at how children could trust so blindly. Timmy watched as Armie repositioned himself and Maika on the bed so they were a safe distance from Fraya, listening to the beginnings of Maika’s recounting of her night at Lucie’s. He stayed for a few minutes and then headed to the kitchen to get dinner started. 

They ate dinner at the kitchen island, feeling a little naughty because Fraya never let them eat dinner anywhere but the dining room table; and then they indulged in hot fudge and caramel sundaes for dessert. Armie cleaned up while Timmy ran Maika her bath and helped her get ready for bed. They watched a few episodes of Sofia the First with Maika snuggled between them on the couch and once it was time for her bedtime, Timmy took her up to her room where he read her a few bedtime stories, sang her a song, and stayed close until she was asleep. 

Armie and Timmy had barely spoken since Timmy had come home, and the little they had, had centered mostly around Maika. While Timmy was upstairs, Armie changed Fraya’s IV bag, took a few minutes to wash her face with a warm damp cloth, and checked on her bandages. He injected a dose of antibiotics and the antiviral cocktail the doctor had created into the tube’s access port like he had been shown, and then after kissing her lips softly, lingering just a moment as he usually did, he went to the reception to get some work done on the computer.

“I keep finding you here.” Timmy said a while later, surprising Armie who jumped a little when Timmy walked into the reception area and rounded the desk. Armie swiveled to the side and immediately Timmy was in his lap, arms slung loosely over his shoulders. “What are you working on?”

“I’m going through my father’s research. I’m hoping maybe he missed something that can help Fraya.” Armie answered, honestly.

“Was your father like us?” Timmy asked, his use of the communal ‘us’ not lost on Armie, and he relaxed for the first time since Timmy had come home. 

“No. He was human. But he studied the occult and the underworld all his life.” 

“The underworld?” Timmy chuckled softly at this. “Is that really what it’s called?” 

“That’s what he called it. Maybe he had a thing for Kate Beckinsale.” Armie teased, and Timmy chuckled again. It felt good to be together like this. Like they had been before. Before he had failed them; before Timmy had had to save Fraya and the entire plan had almost been wrecked. They were quiet for a moment, the tension between them growing a little heavy. “Are we… ok?” Armie asked eventually, worry in his voice.

“There’s still so much we need to talk about. And there’s still a lot I need to work through. But I meant what I said.” Timmy offered. “I love you. And I love them. And you were right, I can feel the connection too. I don’t know what it is, and it scares me, but I feel it.” Timmy's words made Armie’s heart race. “So for now, I just want you to hold me.”

“That’s what you said earlier and then you ran away from me.” Armie said, unable to hide the hurt he felt at this.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Timmy whispered. He had shimmied on Armie’s lap to reposition himself in such a way that their chest were pressed together and Armie could feel his breath, moist and hot, against his skin. 

Something had shifted in their bodies as well as the air around them. The need for comfort and the desire to be reassured was building throughout Timmy’s body in the form of arousal. Armie was part incubus; he could feel these things. It was faint but it was there. Timmy had enough control over himself that had Armie been human, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the subtle change in Timmy’s pulse, the increased warmth of his skin or the tell tale flush of pink that crept up from his chest to his cheeks when he was turned on. But Armie wasn’t human. He was a cambion and he was definitely aware. 

“Do you forgive me?” Timmy asked, his voice sounding deeper, desire making everything feel slow and languorous. Armie simply nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke because his own want and need was stirring in response to Timmy’s. “Then come take a shower with me and show me.”

“Show you?” Armie couldn’t help but ask, and his voice did in fact break. It was now Timmy’s turn to just nod his response. “Ok.” Armie whispered and tilted his chin so he could kiss Timmy, applying the softest pressure as he touched their lips together.

When Armie pulled away, Timmy got off his lap and extended a hand toward him, which Armie took without hesitation. They walked to the bathroom hand in hand, picking up discarded toys and turning off lights as they made their way. They undressed without ceremony, Armie finishing first so he waited while Timmy discarded his clothes and removed his bandages and then it was his turn to extend a hand in the other man’s direction. They walked into the shower together, the dark unpolished onyx of the nook’s walls enveloping them in its cave-like protective embrace as Armie held Timmy close to his body but off to the side, while he started the water and adjusted its temperature. Once he was satisfied, he stepped under the spray and pulled Timmy under it with him.

They stood there for a long time, quiet, Armie holding Timmy against his body, their chests pressed together, the heat of the water warming their muscles as it cascaded down their intertwined form, Armie’s arms around Timmy’s shoulders and Timmy’s around Armie’s waist, his cheek pressed between Armie’s clavicles while his chin rested on the top of Timmy’s head.

Armie would have been content just holding Timmy for as long as it took to make sure he understood that not only was he forgiven, but there was really nothing to be forgiven for. However, there was soon no denying Timmy needed more. Despite the heat and humidity surrounding them, Timmy’s skin had raised with gooseflesh where Armie allowed his hands to roam, carefully avoiding open wounds, and his hips had begun a slow grind into Armie’s thigh. Armie obliged, pushing his knee up between Timmy's legs and Timmy shivered on a sharp inhale when his erection was granted its first taste of friction. His head fell backward and he allowed the spray to wash over his face while Armie took the opportunity to kiss his throat, the closed mouthed sounds Timmy was making vibrating against his lips. He lapped at the water that was dripping down Timmy’s neck and kissed and nibbled at his shoulders, his collarbones, while his hands roamed the length of Timmy’s spine and over the curve of his ass, then back up again until they were cupping the back of his neck, thumbs gently caressing his sharp jaw, so he could kiss him.

Timmy was holding on so tightly, Armie thought he might be attempting to meld their bodies together. Again, the kiss was desperate and needy and ignited all of Armie’s instincts to protect and soothe; instincts that had only ever been awakened in this way by Fraya. But it wasn’t just protectiveness he realized. It was also possessiveness. A possessiveness similar to how he felt about Fraya but different in the way that it was laced with greed, rapacious in its wanting.

‘Fuck!’ he thought as this new clarity washed over him, the implications suddenly so heavy on his shoulders and on his heart that he had to hold on to Timmy to not buckle under the weight of them. 

Pulling Timmy with him, Armie stepped backward until his knees hit the stone shower seat and he sat down, spreading his knees so Timmy could stand between them. In an effort to extinguish this new cognisance, Armie pressed his lips to Timmy’s stomach in open mouth kisses, licking at water droplets, tongue dipping into his belly button before he continued to wander the flat plains of his abdomen, biting gently at his right inguinal muscle before kissing his hip bone, fingers firmly groping at small but full asscheeks that fit his palms perfectly, so he could could keep him close. Not that Timmy was trying to get away. In fact, the way he was fisting his hands in Armie’s hair and canting his hips forward was a clear indication that he wasn't. 

When Armie took Timmy’s cock into his mouth, he felt his body quiver in his hands. The way he responded to being touched was mesmerizing. Despite being needy and wanton, it was always so yielding and willing. There was something so completely unselfish about the way Timmy gave himself over, offered his pleasure like it was a gift and not something he was chasing or taking. Even when he was pressing on the back of Armie’s head so he could push his hard length past the back of his tongue and into his throat, it wasn’t forceful or intrusive. His hands were relaxed in Armie’s wet hair, his thumbs gently stroking the shell of his ear; a gesture that to Armie felt like a thank you for being so willing to make him feel good. 

Timmy keened when Armie pulled off with a wet pop to catch his breath, his tongue pointed and hard, flicking into the extra sensitive slit at the tip of his dick, the faint taste of him not yet washed away by the water making his tongue tingle with saltiness. Wanting more of him, Armie parted his lips to guide Timmy back inside his mouth but Timmy stopped him, bending down to kiss his instead. He straddled him, managing to do so with their lips never parting, hands gliding over wet skin, pausing once in a while to dig into warmed, pliable muscles in an attempt to get as close and touch as much as possible before they resumed their meandering.

“Tell me you love me,” Timmy demanded softly, when eventually they had to break a kiss in order to breathe, their lips mere millimeters from each other's, foreheads touching because they were unwilling to allow even a modicum of space between them.

“I love you,” Armie answered, his voice steady, not even a hint of hesitation in the reply. Because it was true. It had been true for a while. He had known it even as he had denied it to Fraya the other day. It seemed like so long ago now and yet it had been only a few days.

Thoughts of her tightened his chest with guilt and as they did, Timmy’s arms tightened around his neck as though he was trying to counter them. Armie wondered if he could not only tell what he was feeling but also why.

“Tell me we’re going to be ok. All of us. Tell me Fraya is going to wake up and it won’t have all been for nothing.” Timmy continued.

“Timmy…” Armie started but stopped because he didn’t know what to say and really didn’t want to continue thinking about Fraya at the moment. 

“Please Armie,” Timmy insisted, and the need in his voice forced those protective instincts to kick back in. The problem was that he wasn’t sure he believed it would be ok and he knew Timmy would be able to tell if didn’t mean it.

“Fraya’s tough. The magic will wear off and she’ll be fine. She has to be.” Armie thought and then answered. It was true enough. Fraya would be alright because she had to be, otherwise Armie didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t even process what might happen if she wasn’t. If she left him. If she was gone.

“Will she hate me?” Timmy asked, wanting to know. His voice was just a barely there whisper, pain palpable in the possibility.

“No! Of course not. Timmy you didn’t do anything wrong. She could never hate you. She…” Armie began but stopped mid-sentence. ‘She loves you!’ he was going to say, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it; even if he knew it was what Timmy needed to hear. Not because it wasn’t true, but because he knew it was and he didn’t want to share him right now. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. So instead he said: “You saved her life Timmy. How could she hate you? What you did, it was… brave and selfless, and she’ll be grateful. I know I am.”

“Then show me.” Timmy was begging again. “I want you to show me how grateful you are. Please Armie, even if it’s only for a few minutes, I need to feel something else. I need to think about something else. When I close my eyes, she’s all I can feel and while I know it was necessary, I can still hear her saying no and it eats at me. I need you to make me feel something else.” 

Armie was used to being physical with people. He was built for it after all. But he did so to take, normally. He needed to pleasure others in order to feed. It was a means to an end. The only person he had ever been with for no reason other than to just be, was Fraya. And even so, those instances had been rare. When he was with Fraya there was always the ulterior need to harvest Spasm. Not that he didn’t love being with her, he did. But it was also a function of necessity. Suddenly, he felt inadequate. Because what Timmy needed was far beyond pure physical gratification, it was emotional healing and it was impossible to give him that without allowing himself to be vulnerable too, and that was something he’d never really learned how to do. 

“I don’t know how.” he said honestly, shyly.

“Let’s show each other, then.”

Timmy had been the one to get them started, slowly undulating his hips as he pressed into Armie’s pelvis with his own, letting their desires build deep and unhurried, calming Armie when old habits made him want to take instead of waiting for it to happen. With Timmy in charge of the pace, Armie found that he was free to touch and taste and hear in a way he had never been before when he had been focused on getting his partners to the endzone. He bit at Timmy’s earlobe just to hear the way a moan got caught in his throat, and he dragged his nails on the back of Timmy’s thighs to feel the way his body tensed and rippled with pleasure at the sensation. He kissed his chin to feel the beginning of stubble prickle his lips and he licked the length of his throat to taste the salty sweetness of his skin. He even licked the side of Timmy’s nose with the tip of tongue, just because it was beautiful, like the rest of him, and it deserved the same attention.

They stayed in the shower long after Timmy had come, with Armie still inside him despite having come himself moments earlier. Then Armie had kept Timmy in his lap and kissed him and touched him, exploring his body just because he could, until their extremities began to shrivel and the temperature of the water began to drop. They washed under the rainfall showerhead, Armie soaping Timmy up and carefully cleaning his wounds and the areas that were now newly sensitive and raw… in a good way. And when they were done, Armie dried Timmy with a plush towel, taking the time to make sure he got between each finger and behind each knee before applying new bandages to the cuts the doctor had said would need to be kept covered for a few more days. 

They were quiet as they got into bed, careful not to disturb Fraya. Timmy wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of being in bed with her, saying he should maybe take the couch instead, but Armie assured him it was fine.

“She would want you here Tim. If she wanted you on the couch she’d have put you there the first night you were here,” he insisted. When Timmy tried to insist in turn, Armie added: “What if I said I want you here? I don’t want her to be alone if she wakes in the middle of the night and I need you close to me. Please?”

In the end, Timmy had agreed and he had fallen asleep curled up against Armie’s chest, an arm draped around his waist, the tips of his finger just barely brushing Fraya’s forearm. 

During the days that followed, Timmy, Armie and Maika fell into a sort of routine with Timmy taking on a role similar to Fraya’s. Armie would get up with the roosters - or so his father used to say, not that they’d ever had roosters, but he’d always been an early riser - and after reading the morning paper and answering a few emails on his tablet, he would wake up Maika to find out if she’d be going to school that day. Because she was worried for Fraya, she had been opting to stay home. Armie would bring her downstairs, they’d wake up Timmy together and she’d cuddle with him until Armie came to get them for breakfast. They ate at the kitchen island, Armie and Maika insisting on sugary cereal, requests that Timmy systematically refused, insisting on oatmeal and fresh fruit or eggs and a fruit salad, which was exactly what Fraya would have wanted them to have.

Once they were done with breakfast, Armie would head to the reception area where he spent the day doing research, leaving Timmy to take care of Maika and Fraya. After setting Maika up in front of an episode of Elena of Avalor, Timmy would clean up their breakfast mess and go check on Fraya. He would change her IV bag, give her her antibiotics and antivirals, and check that the puncture area was still clean and the needle properly inserted before he changed her bandages. 

When he was done, he’d get Armie’s tablet and together, he and Maika would get through that day's homeschool program. She was exceptionally gifted, so usually by the time lunch rolled around, they were done.

They’d make lunch together, Maika asking a million questions and chatting away as though things were normal, as though nothing terrible had happened and somehow, that comforted him. They would eat in the sitting area near the bookshelves at reception, just so they could be close to Armie, who was usually too lost in his research to stop working altogether. Though, he’d take a few minutes to sit will Maika on his lap once she was done with her meal so she could tell him what she’d learned that day, and when he’d send her off with a fond pat on the bum, requesting she bring their empty plates to the kitchen, he’d pull Timmy onto his lap and steal a kiss. 

Fraya never liked for Maika to watch too much television, so afternoons were spent playing or doing arts and crafts, Timmy and Maika sitting on the living room floor, making all sorts of pretty things for Fraya when she woke up. They made beads out of fimo clay that they dried in the oven in order to make her a bracelet and a necklace set. They had sculpting competitions with playdoh and insisted on making Armie the judge, and when he declared a tie, they called him a chicken and walked away declaring themselves both winners, which left him rather perplexed. They made many drawings that Timmy taped all over the wardrobe doors in the bedroom so Fraya could see them first thing, and then when it was time for dinner, Timmy would set Maika up at the island with a cutting board and a knife that Fraya would probably disapprove of (despite the little redhead handling it like a pro) so she could help prep whatever they were making. It was never anything as elaborate as what Fraya would have made - she was a good cook, Timmy could cook, there was a difference - but it always had all the food groups and didn’t give them food poisoning, so he called it a win.

They ate at the dining room table just like Fraya always insisted they should, and while Maika was allowed a little more TV afterward, Armie and Timmy cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen. It was nice, this maintaining of what was normal, even if nothing really was; because she was there, but not really. It felt comfortable, and though it didn’t feel quite right, it certainly didn’t feel wrong. Later, Armie would get Maika washed up and into her PJs and by 8h30, Timmy was taking her up to bed. 

Once Maika was asleep, Timmy and Armie would curl up on the couch and put on a movie, though they barely watched it, too busy discovering new ways to make the other shiver and sigh, and then once it was late enough to consider going to bed, Armie would take Timmy into the shower where shivers and sighs turned into full body quivers and wanton moans. They all needed the routine; and the comfort and reassurance it offered.

On the third night though, Timmy had come down from Maika’s room to find Armie back at the computer in the reception area, clearly frustrated with what he was - or wasn’t - finding. 

“Hey, you’ve been staring at the screen for days. Take a break.” he said, rounding the large L-shaped desk so he could stand behind Armie and rub his shoulders. Normally, Armie melted into Timmy’s touch immediately, but this time he shrugged out of it. 

“I can’t find anything. Everytime I think I find a lead it’s a dead end. The doctor said she’d wake up in a few days. It’s been 72 hours and she’s still unconscious. And… and what if we were too late? What if she’s already gone?” he sounded small suddenly. So very unlike Armie. 

This reminded Timmy of that night, how broken he had seemed briefly and Timmy fought against the panic that was rising in his chest. The feeling was so strong, Timmy thought that surely some of what he was feeling was Armie’s, but he didn’t seem panicked, he seemed defeated; fragmented into so many pieces he was practically unrecognizable. This panicked him more and he felt the red haze start to cloud his thinking. ‘Not now,’ he warned it silently, and it receded. He took a moment to breathe and found that doing so calmed the panic but turned its remnants into anger. 

“Don’t do that.” he barked at Armie, swiveling the office chair so he was facing him. Anger was better than panic. He could control anger. “Look at me. The doctor said a few days. Not ‘she’ll wake up at 10 pm on Tuesday’. It’s only been 72 hours. Maybe the blast was stronger than we thought and it’s taking longer to wear off.”

“Timmy, you don’t understand. It’s hopeless.” Armie said, sounding beaten. Because even if she didn’t wake up, he still wasn’t any closer to finding the stone. Not that Timmy had any idea about that part of it. Which was definitely a bigger part of the problem than he could admit.

“No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare give up on her now. She’s gonna wake up and when she does she’s going to need you. So get over whatever this is, ok!?” Timmy ordered, and Armie’s body flailed back and forth as though he was being shaken roughly, though Timmy wasn’t actually touching him. This seemed to snap Armie out of whatever state he was in and he blinked up at Timmy, perplexed.

“Did you… was that you?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.” Timmy said stepping back, hands raised to his mouth in shock. The anger was gone and panic was quickly taking over again. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine. Calm down. I’m ok, you didn’t hurt me.” Armie was quick to reassure, getting out of the chair and pulling Timmy against his chest. “They’re stronger when you’re angry right? Your powers I mean. When you get mad, you can make things happen just by thinking them?” Timmy nodded against his chest. “We’re going to have work on that. Get you to control that better. I think you gave me whiplash.”

“Shut up.” Timmy huffed but he was smiling, the playful teasing having calmed him, and he wrapped his arms around Armie’s waist. “I could have hurt you.”

“But you didn’t.” Armie reassured.

They held each other for a while, Timmy burying his face in the spot right below Armie’s throat and Armie holding him tightly, his long arms wrapping all the way around Timmy’s back until he could curl his fingers around his shoulders.

“What happened tonight?” Timmy finally asked. Still concerned at the quick downturn Armie had taken earlier. “You seemed fine when I took Maika up to bed.”

“I thought I’d found something. I was waiting on one of my dad’s contacts to get back to me to confirm it but it turned out it was just another dead end.” Armie said, trying very hard to not allow the frustration and helplessness he felt to transpire in his voice; which was of course pointless, because Timmy could feel - and smell - both emotions anyway. They smelled pungent and came off Armie in acrid wafts of something akin to rot. Timmy gave Armie’s emotions time to settle and then they began to fade.

“I’m sure something will come up. Maybe Maika could go to school tomorrow and I can help you with your research,” he offered, and Armie hummed noncommittally. He was tired, Timmy didn’t need to be an empath to feel that too. “We should go to bed early tonight. You’re dead on your feet.” Armie hummed again.

“Are we skipping the shower tonight then?” he asked and Timmy could hear the pout in his tone, making him giggle.

“Oh no, we’re definitely showering. But then straight to bed with you.”

As they did every night before they went to take their shower, Armie and Timmy locked up the warehouse, picked up the last few remains of the day and turned off all the lights. Armie really was tired and so after a quick wash, Timmy kissed him and then turned so his back was to him. He walked to the wall in front of him leaned against it, his cheek resting on a raised forearm to protect himself from the roughness of the stone. He looked at Armie over his shoulder and smiled, his ass raised invitingly. Armie licked his lips hungrily but didn’t move.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to. Not like this.” Armie said, sincerely. 

His sudden chivalry made Timmy smile. He loved this new, soft, Armie, but that didn’t mean he didn’t also want Armie the way he had been before. A little demanding and rough around the edges when it came to getting what he wanted or taking what he needed… which usually had the bonus effect of giving Timmy what he wanted as well as what he needed.

“I don’t want to go to bed without having felt you inside me tonight and I’m afraid you’re gonna fall asleep on me if we sit down,” he teased.

“I won’t Timmy, it’s fine. Come here.” Armie asserted, gesturing toward the shower seat; but then he yawned and Timmy bit his lip not to laugh. 

“Armie, I want you to fuck me. And I want you to fuck me against this wall. But if you aren’t going to, then I guess I’ll just have to take care of it myself. If you really want to sit, you can but then you’ll just get watch.” Timmy said, still looking at Armie over his shoulder, only this time he made sure Armie could also see that he had started to touch himself.

At first Armie’s eyes went wide, and again Timmy had to bite back a laugh. But then he seemed to remember himself and his eyes darkened.

“Stop!” Armie ordered, and the familiarity of it radiated through Timmy in a comforting way. He watched as Armie closed the gap between them and even though he had expected it, Timmy’s breath caught when Armie’s arm wrapped around his waist to pull his back flush against his chest and he brought his mouth close to Timmy's ear. “You don’t touch yourself until I tell you to.” 

The quick but stinging clack of Armie’s open palm landing on the wet skin of his left asscheek made Timmy moan loudly, and he pushed back into Armie’s hand. What followed was quick and rough and Timmy loved it. He knew his arm was probably being scratched up on the unpolished onyx but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Armie was claiming him, making him his, like he had before. Before that night. Before they’d almost lost her. Neither of them lasted very long.

“I’m gonna come.” Timmy blurted out after only a few minutes, just mere seconds before he shot pearly white shimmering striations onto the rough black stone of the wall in front of him. 

Armie came another few minutes after, never having relented the punishing rhythm he’d established even after Timmy had come and had probably become oversensitive, the sounds he was making telling him the assault was welcome. 

“Come here.” Armie growled after he’d caught his breath. He spun Timmy around to kiss him, pressing him into the wall, using his hands to protect Timmy’s back from the rough edges in the stone, also not caring that his skin was getting mangled.

“We were really loud. Do you think Maika heard us?” Timmy asked while Armie was drying him, looking up toward the mezzanine suddenly worried, but so full of endorphins that he couldn’t stop giggling. 

“If she did she’d be down here so I don’t think so.” Armie reassured him and started to dry himself. “Speaking of, I like it when you make that weird snorting sound right before you come. It’s really cute.”

“I do NOT snort.” Timmy said, appalled but still giggly.

“Yeah you do. You hold your breath when it starts to get intense and then right before you come you inhale and it makes you snort. It’s really loud actually, I’m surprised you never noticed.” Armie said, and he almost managed to keep a straight face long enough to make Timmy believe it.

“Oh fuck you.” Timmy said, throwing the boxers he was about to put on at Armie. “You’re making it up. Oh my god… I thought you were serious.”

“If you think you’re getting these back you are sorely mistaken.” Armie teased, holding the boxers at arm's length above his head so Timmy couldn’t reach them. “Come and get them.” he said, twirling them around his finger as he stepped off the raised platform that delimited the bathroom area and started to walk backward toward the bedroom.

“You’re a very bad man, Mr. Hammer!” Timmy stated as he wrapped a towel around his hips, adding “It’s a good thing I love you,” before he too stepped off and followed, not that he got very far. 

Something had caught his attention at the outer edge of his periphery and he’d turned to see what it was. At first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. But then he saw Armie’s face and realized he had seen it too.

“Fraya?” Timmy said, though he didn’t remember opening his mouth. Armie too appeared flabbergasted, frozen in place.

There she was, standing on the other side of the kitchen island, hair a little dirty and wild but otherwise looking well and alert, eating leftover chicken from that night’s dinner, straight off the bone, the fridge door left open, its bright light casting an almost ethereal glow around her. She looked at him, then at Armie, shifting her eyes from one to the other and back to her chicken.

“This is good. I was hungry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Lostcol who always finds time to edit this for me and continues to be a sounding bboard.


End file.
